


Saving Draco

by JosephineStone



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 25 Days of Harry and Draco, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Blood, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Community: slythindor100, M/M, Suggested Suicidal Tendencies, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 06:50:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6184894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosephineStone/pseuds/JosephineStone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry saving Draco is becoming the theme of their life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

During a lull in the shopping frenzy that was the Christmas season, Harry ventured out to attempt some of it on his own. It was snowing although lightly and during supper time, so he had the street to himself. It was rare for him to shop on his own. He liked to consult with Hermione about what to get people he didn't know very well, and it was just nice to see her and Ron. After they had Rose, their free time disappeared. 

Harry had just left the shops and was making his way down to the street when a lone car slipped down the road toward a man walking across the street.

The car slammed on its brakes, but the snow kept it sliding down the road. 

Harry reflexes acted before his brain could process the horror he was watching. The man the car headed toward was slammed back into a tree—by Harry's spell. Not by the car. Harry quickly hid his wand and ran to the man, who was then lying in the mud and snow at the base of the tree. 

A Muggle street. Harry knew he'd have to obliviate them, but he wasn't looking forward to it. It was part of his job as an Auror, but he hated it. It felt like an invasion of privacy or as though he was stealing something from them. Harry supposed he was—their memories—a bit of their reality. 

The car had finally come to a stop. It's tail lights shown on the prone man as Harry ran carefully across the street to revive him. The man in the car unsteadily got out. The look on his face suggested that was because of his own fear and not from him being intoxicated. His hand covered his mouth as he stared behind the car.

The man on the ground groaned. Harry sighed in relief and slowly turned him over to get him some air.

'Are you sure it's safe to move me?'

Harry could hear the sneer in the man voice, and knew the man's name before he'd had a chance to see his face: Draco Malfoy.

'I'm sorry, Healer Malfoy,' Harry said, sarcastically. 'Would you rather be breathing snow or air? I figured the snow was the more immediate danger, but you are the Healer after all.'

After a coughing fit, and Harry helping Malfoy to sit up, Malfoy said, 'I'm fine.' 

It took Harry a moment to realise that he wasn't talking to Harry.

'Your car didn't touch me,' Malfoy continued. 'I slipped on a patch of ice just there and slid into this tree—I guess it's my lucky day.'

The older, Harry saw then, Muggle man just stared at them.

'It's fine, really,' Harry stood up and walked over to the man. 'He's a doctor so he would know. Let me help you to your car.'

'Ice?' the man asked, clearly wanting to believe it, yet not sure it fit in with what he saw. If he could get the man to believe Malfoy's story, then he wouldn't have to fix his memory with a spell.

'Yes,' Harry said. 'I saw the whole thing. He tried to run to the side of the road when you hit your brakes, but he slid instead. Much quicker that way actually.' Harry laughed. 'Don't worry about it. He was meeting me here. I'll take care of him.'

'A friend of yours?'

Harry wondered how much of their conversation he had heard.

'Yes.'

That seemed to satisfy the man, and he let Harry help him into his car. Once he was gone, Harry came back to Malfoy.

'Are you alright?'

Malfoy grimaced, and Harry took that to mean he wasn't as fine as he had earlier let on.

'Give me your hand. I'll get you to St Mungo's.'

For some reason, Harry expected Malfoy to say something about Harry playing the hero, but he didn't. He gritted his teeth and held his hand up. Harry took it, and they Apparated away from the quiet snowy street.

#

St Mungo's was busy.

It took Harry pointing out to the staff three times that Malfoy needed attention and no he couldn't help them out before a Mediwizard took noticed and let Harry help him to a room. Of course, it also might have been because Malfoy had said:

'Fuck this, I'll do it myself!' And then he pulled out his wand.

Malfoy was patched up and fine, so Harry had no reason to stay, but he did. He sat in the waiting room for hours, and then he began to worry. Harry had lost all the bones in his arm once, and it hadn't taken so long before Ron and Hermione could see him. Afraid that he might have hurt Malfoy more than he'd intended, he began asking the Mediwizards what was going on. 

'Healer Malfoy isn't on schedule tonight.'

'I know that,' Harry said, trying his best not to strangle or hex the young witch in front of him. 'I brought him in because he was hit by a car! I want to know if I can see him now.'

'Oh,' the witch paled. 'I'll check right away.'

Right away turned out to be another twenty minutes, but his anger left him as he saw the fear in her expression as she approached him. Whatever the news was, it wasn't good, and Harry's stomach dropped as he waited for her to get the words out—which seemed to be the most difficult task ever asked of her.

'He's. He's not. He's not—'

'It's okay—' Harry searched for her badge. 'It's alright, Mary, just tell me.'

'He's gone home,' she winced as though Harry would hex her for it. 'He was let go about an hour ago. Just a few bruises and cracked bones and a sprained ankle.' 

'Oh,' Harry said. 'Thank you.' He forced a smile because she broke a few rules for him as it was none of his business what damage had been done to Malfoy. All she should have told him was that Malfoy wasn't there. Which looking back was what all the other Mediwizards told him. 'Thank you,' he repeated.

He left St Mungo's angry. Although he realised he had no right to be. Malfoy owed him nothing. Harry had saved his life, but that was nothing new. He'd never thanked him before, and Harry had not expected him to thank him then.

All Harry had wanted to know was that he was alright, and he was. Malfoy was fine. Harry still had half a mind to give Malfoy a piece of his mind, except Harry didn't know where Malfoy lived. He might still live at the Manor. He might have grown up and cut the umbilical cord. Malfoy had been walking down a Muggle street. Maybe he lived in a Muggle neighborhood.

No, that wasn't possible. Harry laughed at his thoughts. This was Malfoy. He was a Healer at St Mungo's, which was most likely all his parents idea to make their name respectable after the war again.

They'd had a business; Harry had found out where their first fortune had come from centuries before, that sold medical potions. It was still St Mungo's largest supplier. 

Malfoy being a Healer fit right into their plans for them.

That's why a few hours later Harry was drunk and knocking on the front door of Malfoy Manor: because Malfoy lived there. It only made sense.

'Mr Potter,' Narcissa Malfoy said. 'Are you quite alright?' 

She was wrapped in a silk robe, which was probably hiding bedclothes. Harry wondered how late it was. The house elf that answered the door was snippy with him, and then he brought Narcissa instead of Draco. Draco probably wasn't his "master" or some such nonsense. Hermione was right. They needed to be freed. 

'I'm here to talk to our ungrateful prat of a son,' Harry slurred his words with purpose which made him almost fall over on to Narcissa. She backed up to give Harry more room to stumble around their entry way and if Harry saw that correctly, was smirking at him.

'Draco is not here.'

'Ah, so you know who I'm talking about.'

She was definitely smirking at him then. 'Well, I do only have the one son, and sadly he does tend to be ungrateful.'

'I saved his life!'

A pained look crossed her face.

'I mean tonight—last night,' Harry corrected himself. 'I stopped him from getting hit by a car.'

'Oh, dear.' Narcissa took Harry's hand. 'Draco is not here right now, but I can make sure he joins me for breakfast.' She slowly led him farther into the house. 'Would you care to lay down? Perhaps, sober up a bit?'

Harry was too tired to argue and soon was laying in a soft bed in a blue room. 

'I'll see Malfoy in the morning.'

'I'll make sure of it,' Narcissa said. 'And I for one can't wait to see someone tell him he is an ungrateful prat.' It was quiet for a few moments while Harry allowed himself to fall closer to sleep. 'For what it's worth from me: thank you for saving my son's life . . . again.'

#

'Fuck!' Harry said as soon as he opened his eyes and then regretted it. He drank far too much the night before to be yelling first thing after waking up. He closed and rubbed his eyes. He was at Malfoy Manor. He was lying in bed in Malfoy Manor, and he remembered every detail of how he'd got there. He hadn't been nearly drunk enough the night before to let him forget.

Very slowly he pulled himself up and saw that Narcissa had left him a hangover potion on the nightstand. She had mentioned something about sobering him up. 

Harry groaned because she had also mentioned something about making sure Draco would be there for breakfast so Harry could tell him he was an ungrateful prat. Which he was, but Harry might need a few pints of something strong before he'd have the nerve to say that to his face.

After the war, Harry had done a fine job pretending that Malfoy didn't exist. Everyone around Harry, not so much. He lashed out at Ron one day over breakfast when he'd read aloud an article about Malfoy:

'Why do you insist on tell me about Malfoy's every bloody move!'

Ron and Hermione gaped at him, but Rose just laughed. 'I thought you wanted to know, mate,' Ron had said, 'you always did before. It's just in the _Prophet_ and . . .'

'Well, I don't anymore.' Harry swallowed. 'I don't care anymore.'

'Are you alright Harry?' Hermione asked, as she continued to feed her giggling daughter, who seemed to think Harry being angry was the most amusing thing she'd ever seen.

'I'm fine. I'm just tired of everyone bringing me every shred of gossip they can find about Malfoy. Ron reads me every article he comes across about him. You, Neville, and even Ron's mum mention every time you see him at the Ministry, shopping, or eating—'

'I'm just talking about my day—'

'Luna owls me every article the _Quibbler_ writes about him and underlined all the quotes she gets about his love life—which I do not have any interest in.' Harry raised his voice on that last part as both Ron and Hermione were trying not to laugh. 'Even Ginny tells me when he's up to something she finds suspicious or as she has been putting it recently: _interesting_.'

That caught Ron's attention. 'What's she find interesting?'

'That he goes to all Puddlemere United's games even though everyone knows that he supports the Falmouth Falcons. She thinks he's after Oliver Wood.' Harry rolled his eyes. Oliver might be into blokes and Malfoy might be the most gorgeous man Harry'd ever laid eyes on, but Oliver would never go for Malfoy. Not that it would stop Malfoy from trying. But it didn't matter. Harry didn't care.

Hermione and Ron were watching him out of the corner of their eyes as they had one of the secret conversations by just looking at each other. Harry hated when they did that.

'It doesn't matter,' Harry said. 'I don't care. I don't want to know anything about him anymore. Can we please just move on? The war is over. It's all over.'

'Okay, Harry,' Hermione said at the same time Ron said, 'Sure, mate.'

The thing was that until the almost car accident, Harry kept far away from Draco Malfoy. Harry wasn't intimidated by him, but he also wasn't in a hurry to reestablish contact. Or for that contact to be them ripping into each other, which was what it would undoubtedly become if he told Malfoy how he felt about being abandoned at St Mungo's the night before.

Harry found a bathroom and washed up as best he could without taking a full bath, and then, as quietly as he could, he walked down the grand staircase. He hoped to sneak out the front door and owl Narcissa his apologies once he was safe far, far away from Malfoy. Harry did not want to hear what his friends would have to say about this, and he swore that Hermione was the best Legilimen ever, or maybe she just knew him really well. 

Either way, Harry was shit at keeping things from her.

'Not sneaking away I hope.' Narcissa's voice was soft and pleasant, but it still made Harry wince. 

He turned toward her. 'I'm sorry for the way I acted last night. I was—'

'Drunk.'

'Right, I apologise and thank you so much for your hospitality, but I should—'

'Join us for breakfast.' Narcissa gestured toward the breakfast room. 'Please, do. I was so looking forward to the conversation you were planning on having with my son. I'm old. I don't get out much. It'd do my heart some good.'

Harry winced. 'I'm embarrassed by my behaviour—'

'Don't be. It's my son who should be embarrassed, and I did want your help in making sure that happens. I feel he'll listen more to you than to me.'

'To me?' Harry was surprised. 'All we do is fight. He doesn't care at all what I think.'

'He cares more than I think even he realises, but mostly he knows I'll always love him no matter what. So he respectfully disagrees with me and then brushes my views aside. You— _you_ he has to confront. It's good for him.'

Harry hesitated, but eventually followed her. It felt rude not to after how well she'd treated him the night before with him waking her up and hollering drunken ravings around her entryway. 

'Mother,' Malfoy said as Narcissa entered the room in front of Harry. 'What kept you? I buttered your—' Malfoy stared wide-eyed at Harry, holding a piece of toast in midair. Both Harry and Narcissa had taken their seats by the time Malfoy recovered, and asked, 'What is he doing here?'

'Draco, don't be rude; he is obviously joining us for breakfast.'

Malfoy shook his head and turned his attention to Harry. 'What are you doing here?'

Being unprepared, Harry said the first thing to come to him, 'I came here for your apologie.'

'My what?'

'I was at St Mungo's for an hour after you left, having no idea if you were alright or they were keeping you, not knowing where you went, and without so much as a thank you for saving your life—not that I expected it from you, but you could have at least—'

Malfoy cut him off with a somewhat baffled expression and a whispered, 'You waited?'

'Of course, I waited!'

This was far more embarrassing than Harry had imagined. Draco hadn't even known he was waiting for new from him. He could feel himself turning red and lost the ability to look anyone in the eye.

'I was fine. I thought you knew that.' 

'It just that my magic can be . . .'

'Forceful?'

Harry shrugged. 'The car caught me off guard, so I wasn't sure how hard I'd hit you.' It didn't bother him as much as it had in the beginning, but Harry had unintentionally hurt a few of his fellow Aurors during training. He just had to focus. Which he wasn't doing when he threw the spell at Malfoy.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes as he looked back and forth between Harry and Narcissa. 'So you came here this morning to see if I was alright?'

'Um . . .'

'No.' Narcissa smiled. 'He came here last night pissed and wanted to tell you off.'

'And you invited him to breakfast!'

'I thought you could use some telling off.'

Malfoy stood. 'I did nothing wrong here.'

'Sit down!' Narcissa said. 'He saved your life. Is a thank you too much too ask? I understand things were delicate during the war, but now? On a Muggle street? He took a lot of risks for you, and you can't afford a simple polite phrase for him.'

'I didn't ask him to save me!' Malfoy looked at Harry. 'I didn't ask you to save me. I didn't ask for it before, and I didn't ask for it now. Maybe, I didn't want your help.'

The way Harry had remembered the fire Malfoy _had_ wanted and asked for Harry's help. It didn't make sense. The car was headed right for him. Malfoy needed his help.

'You needed my help,' Harry said with force, looking at Malfoy again. 'You could have died.'

Malfoy fell back into his chair. 'Why'd it have to be you?'

'Fate works in mysterious ways.' She looked to the window. 'Speaking of . . .' 

There was an owl flying through the snow toward them, but it wasn't holding a package or note that Harry saw. Narcissa let it in, and it flew straight into the room and up the stairs.

'Lucius's owl is home,' Narcissa finished.

'What did you do?' Malfoy asked. 'Father's not here, so you must have sent it.'

'I've been looking for a Healer for you.'

'I am a Healer,' Malfoy grit out.

'Not the kind I'm looking for—'

Malfoy cut her off with a wave of his hand. 'This is none of his business.'

'I've been thinking about that,' Narcissa said as she picked up her tea. 'You need saving, Draco. And Harry here seems to be the expert at it.'

Harry gave a pained laughed. 'I think I should leave you two to your conversation. Malfoy's right; this sounds more like a family matter.'

Narcissa smiled and nodded her head, seemingly alright with relenting for the time being, and Harry escaped out the front door with the feeling that this situation was far from over no matter how fast or how far he ran.


	2. Chapter 2

'I heard, from a good source,' Ginny said, 'that the-person-we-aren't-allowed-to-mention-in-front-of-Harry-anymore got turned down by Oliver Wood yesterday in front of shop full of people.'

Harry had to bite his tongue to keep himself from asking who the source was. It was none of his business, and he did not care.

'Who's a good source?' Ron asked.

'Oliver Wood.'

'What?' Hermione finally looked up from her book to join the conversation. 'What did he do?'

'Just walked away. Oliver thought that the-person-we're-not-allowed-to-mention-in-front-of-Harry-anymore would have caused a scene, but he just . . . left.'

Ron scrunched up his nose. 'Do you think that the-person-we're-not-talking-about-in-front-of-Harry-anymore actually _wanted_ to date him. I mean—they're nothing alike. And isn't the-person-we're-not-talking-about-in-front-of-Harry-anymore's type more like—' 

Everyone glanced at Harry, and he glared right back at them.

Ginny shrugged. 'I wouldn't say that Oliver isn't the-person-we-aren't-suppose-to-talk-about-in-front-of-Harry-anymore's type, and I'd say that bookish, scrawny men, who look down their noses at everyone are certainly Oliver's type. Besides, the-person-we-aren't-suppose-to-talk-about-in-front-of—' 

Harry slammed down his tea. 'For the love of Christ! I'm right here.'

'What?' Ron asked. 'We weren't mentioning him.'

'I know who you all mean by the-person-you-aren't-allowed-to-talk-about-in-front-of-me-anymore. There is only one person that fits. If I know who you're talking about, it's not really not mentioning him in front of me.'

'Ugh,' Harry said as he was at a loss for words. He knew they were only talking about this because he was there. They'd never cared what Malfoy got up to before. Harry left feeling it was high time he spent some time by himself.

#

Harry had never ice-skated before which was why he looked for a less populated pond instead of a popular skating rink to learn on. But just as he got there, he saw the lone figure on it slip through a hole in the ice. 

Throwing his skates aside, Harry ran across the ice slipping most of the way and dove into the water after the person.

He was so focused on getting to them that he didn't feel the cold. But after he grabbed them and tried to swim back to the surface, his limbs could barely move. He tried to remember what Ron had done when they were in the same situation, but he must have blacked out during some part of it. Then he remembered. The Black Lake and his fourth year. Harry reached for his wand as the slipped deeper into the lake.

With the last bit of air in his lungs, Harry screamed the spell, and they both flew through the water and out of the lake, landing on the snowbank. 

Quickly, Harry crawled to the man as Harry was coughing up the water in his own lungs. Before he got a good look at his face, Harry already had a sinking feeling from the color of his damp hair. 

Malfoy.

Harry didn't waste time asking himself questions about the likelihood or how it was possible. His wand was in his hand, and he only knew a few spells that helped in this situation. The first thing was to get the water out of Malfoy's lungs.

The first time he tried it some of the water seeped out of Malfoy's mouth and trickled down his face, but he didn't start coughing. It froze in a trail almost immediately. The second time a much larger gush of water came out and Harry vanished to before it could freeze to Malfoy's skin, hair, and clothes. The third time, Harry heard a slight cough. The fourth time, Malfoy coughed harshly, but his eyes didn't move, and he didn't sit up so in a panic Harry said the spell again. 

The last time, it shocked Malfoy enough to roll over on his side to cough out the rest of the water.

'You again,' Malfoy said as Harry rubbed his back.

'We have got to stop meeting like this,' Harry tried to joke, but Malfoy didn't laugh. 'You're freezing. We need to get you to St Mun—'

'I'm fine, Potter. I just need to warm up.' 

Harry grit his teeth, but he didn't want to fight about it. If Malfoy Apparated away he could go anywhere to let himself die. After what Narcissa had said, well, Harry wasn't positive this was an accident.

'A fire then,' Harry suggested. 'We need to get you to fire. Your place or mine?'

'Yours,' Malfoy choked out.

Harry Apparated them without comment and started a fire straight away. He only left his side for a moment to get them both clean, dry clothes and blankets. He sent Kreacher for some tea.

Once Malfoy was dry and warm Harry said, 'You know I have to tell your mother about this.'

'You have to do no such thing.' Malfoy sighed. 'I'm fine. It was an accident. She'll just needlessly worry.'

'Needlessly worry about it possibly not being as much of an accident as it would have looked to the casual observer?'

'Spoken like a true Auror.' Malfoy stood up on shaky legs. 'This is none of your business, Potter.'

It took him more than one try, but Malfoy Apparated away. Harry hoped it was home. Although Malfoy was right and it was none of Harry's business, he couldn't help be feel responsible for him. Harry had just saved his life again, and he wanted to make sure he was okay.

Besides, he did have to tell Narcissa about what happened. Just in case, Malfoy planned on not taking care of himself.

#

Every day Harry dreaded going into the Ministry. Not because of his job, but because as an employee he entered it through the toilets. No matter how many times he did it, it's just as bad as the first time. He preferred the guest entrance, but there were more check-ins when he went through there, and they were always rude about him not having a guest.

'So, Saturday mum's taking Rose,' Ron said, 'and Hermione wants to know if you'd like to come by for supper. Ginny'll be there, and maybe we could play some Quidditch.'

'I'd love to, but—' Harry grimaced knowing there was no good way to put what he was about to say. 'I'm having supper with Narcissa.'

'Narcissa Malfoy?' Ron looked at Harry as if he'd gone around the twist.

Harry hadn't got around to tell any of his friends about his recent run-ins with Malfoy because he didn't want to hear their thoughts on it. Plus, he was still trying to pretend they hadn't happened and move on with his life. That was what the dinner with Narcissa was all about: letting her know everything he knew so that he could forget about Malfoy with a clean conscience. 

'As in the-person-we're-not-allowed-to-talk-about-in-front-of-you-anymore's mother?' Ron continued, even as Harry glared at him. 'That Narcissa Malfoy?'

'Do you know any others?'

'Blimey, what are you seeing her for?' Ron went pale, and Harry had to bite his tongue to calm himself down before he hexed his best mate. As far as Ron knew Harry hadn't seen Malfoy since the war, and he looked like the thought Harry was planning to ask for his hand in marriage.

'I just have a few things to discuss with her is all.'

Then it was their turn to flush themselves to work, so they parted. They didn't talk to each other once they were inside the stalls anymore. Ron used to, but it freaked Harry out. There were some things he just wasn't open with and felt that standing in front of a toilet should be a private moment, let alone standing in one.

Once inside the Ministry and headed for the elevators, Ron continued, 'What could you possibly have to discuss with her?' Ron was quick on his heels as they slipped into the elevator, and after Harry pushed the button for level two, he sighed and said:

'Draco Malfoy.'

#

Okay, Harry probably deserved the intervention, but not for the reasons his friends thought. After Harry's anger had subsided, he decided that he rather enjoyed torturing Ron by not giving him all the information. He kept throwing worried looks at Harry, and it took all Harry's self-restraint not to bust out laughing. Instead, he wore a constant smirk. Which in retrospect Ron probably associated with Malfoy and just caused him to worry more.

Ron did seem to think that Harry was planning on confessing his undying love for Malfoy. The idea was so mad to Harry that he'd begun to find the whole thing hilarious. Ron paced around his living room while Harry sat in the wingback chair and watched his friends exchanged worried glances.

'Harry,' Hermione said, leaning forward to rest her arms across her knees, 'we're worried about you.

That Harry couldn't stop laughing did nothing to ease their weariness, but Harry couldn't help it. They'd all gone mental. It was one thing when they kept him updated on Malfoy's life. Harry had at one time been very interested in what he was up to. He could admit that. But to think that he had romantic feelings for him. Well, it just made Harry laugh, and the more serious their expressions became, the more he had to laugh.

'It's not funny!' Ron looked terrified at Harry's sudden fit of giggles.

'But it is—you think—how could you possibly think—oh my sides hurt.'

Ginny glared at them all and then threw a spell at Harry, which made him stop laughing abruptly.

'Will someone please explain what is going on here?' Ginny ask. 'I was told it was an emergency, and don't you start laughing again, Harry, or I'll be inclined to believe whatever these two tell me.' 

Ron was the first to speak up. 'Harry is meeting Narcissa Malfoy for supper on Saturday, and he is being very secretive about what he needs to discuss with her.'

'Can't you just accept that it's a private matter?' Harry asked. 'It's not something I should be sharing with other people.'

'See!' Ron said. 'He's planning on courting him! With no warning. They'll kill him—'

'Or laugh at him,' Ginny pointed out. 'Are you planning on asking Narcissa if you can begin courting, Draco?'

'Of course not!' Harry smiled, but Ginny's spell was still affecting him, so he kept himself together. Ginny watched him carefully as if she were a Legilimens, but Harry knew she wasn't. 'I just ran into him the other day and might have . . . saved his life, and as it isn't the first time something like that has happened I thought she would like to know. That's all I'm telling you about it, though, because it is a personal matter and I wish _I_ didn't know that much quite honestly.'

'You saved his life recently?' Ginny asked.

'Again?' Ron laughed.

Ginny waved their questions away and added her own, 'When you say that this isn't the first time are you referring the time at Hogwarts—'

'Time _s_ ,' Ron corrected.

'Times?' Ginny looked surprised at that but looked back to Harry and continued, 'time _s_ at Hogwarts or times since then?'

They all looked far too interested in his answer.

'It's only been twice.'

'Including the war?' Hermione asked. 'Or like Ginny asked: since.'

'Since,' Harry answered, 'but it's nothing to worry about. Well, I mean nothing for us to worry about. Obviously, it is something to worry about for Narcissa which is why I'm meeting with her.' Harry stood up and said to Ron, 'I'm sorry I made you worry, but you were jumping to ridiculous conclusions. I was just messing with you because I'm sick of this whole Malfoy thing, and if I didn't find some humour in it, I probably would have blown up at you instead. I'm trying to get him out of my life. It just seems the harder I try the more contact I end up having with him.'

Harry laughed to show that he was joking about that last part, but it made Ron and Ginny's eyes go wide, again. Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Harry cut her off.

'Don't—please, whatever you are all thinking right now, just don't.'

Hermione closed her mouth and swallowed but nodded, and Ginny and Ron, thankfully, remained silent.

#

There was no reason for Harry to be nervous, but his hands were sweaty, and he was sure he'd spill his food all over himself before the meal was over. He really should have prepared what he wanted to say. It was just that there was no easy way to say that he thought Malfoy's accidents weren't accidents at all, but that he was deliberately putting himself in risky situations. 

Every time Harry tried to bring up the subject, his voice caught in his throat. 

Finally, Narcissa asked, 'Not that I don't enjoy your company, but what was it that you wanted to speak about. Your owl made it sound important.'

Harry coughed and then took a drink of water to give himself a bit more time. 'I came to talk about Malfoy—Draco.'

Narcissa smiled at him pleasantly. 'Yes?' 

'I ran across him again the other day and . . . um, saved his life again, and I thought you should know.'

'Really?' She didn't seem surprised in the slightest, but not only that she didn't seem worried either. 'How lucky you were there.'

'Yes,' Harry agreed. 'But I'm not sure that this one was an . . . accident.'

'Oh,' Narcissa said. 'You think that Draco was trying to—'

'I'm not sure he's really trying to kill himself as much as just not being safe on purpose. I mean there were almost no cars on the road that night, and he was crossing the road not walking down the middle of it. And with the ice—it could have easily happened to me. Someone trying to kill themselves would use a more trustworthy, um—'

She followed her hands in her lap and leant back in her chair with a sigh. 'Like overdosing on potions? Carrying around Draught of Living Death?' 

'Yeah, like that,' Harry said wearily. 'Or jumping from a tower.' Harry remembered Malfoy threatening to do that last one from time to time at Hogwarts, but he'd never thought anything of it at the time.

'He does that, too.' Narcissa looked Harry in the eye. 'It's why I've been trying to get him to see a Healer. He's a good Healer but knows nothing about the mind. He ignores it. I tried to get him into Mental Healing when he went into training, but he scoffed at the idea. I thought if he'd learn about it, new magic as it is, then he'd see . . .'

'You knew?'

'About his suicidal tendencies, of course. About his recent accident—on the ice you said? No. But I do find it interesting . . . you know, when you first requested this—' She gestured between the two of them. 'I thought you were interested in courting him.'

'What?' Harry became light headed. She couldn't possibly have said what he thought she said.

'I know it would have been very out of the blue for you, seeing as how you were in such a hurry to get out of here the last time. But with this new development!' Narcissa clasped her hands together. 'It would have explained your sudden change of heart.'

'It's hardly the first time I've saved his life,' Harry said with a laugh. 'What would have made this time so much different.'

'Well, that's just it isn't, Mr Potter? How many times exactly have you saved my son's life?'


	3. Chapter 3

The words _we've got to stop meeting like this_ were on his tongue, again, but that time Harry bit it to keep them from escaping his mouth. Harry spent the next few days after his meeting with Narcissa trying to convince himself that it was a coincidence that he kept being in the right place at the right time to save Malfoy's life. There was no reason that magic had to have been involved.

Since they were both wizards, when they went into the Muggle world it made sense that they looked for places that were more secluded and private. It wasn't that weird to go shopping in the evening or ice skating on a Saturday morning. 

It also wasn't odd to run into many people Harry had gone to Hogwarts with when wandering down Diagon Alley. But Malfoy was still sat on the ground, blood dripping down his face while staring up at Harry in absolute shock.

So instead, Harry asked, 'This a common occurrence for you?'

Malfoy had been grabbed off the walk and dragged behind the buildings by what Harry originally assumed were a couple of muggers, but as he got closer learned were people out to "rid the world of all Death Eater scum like Malfoy." Harry pulled them off of him, and they quickly backed down and ran away once they realised who they were messing with, but called Harry a traitor for defending Malfoy as they ran.

'Common enough,' Malfoy answered, 'but hardly a daily occurrence.'

If it had happened often, then Malfoy shopping alone was reckless and fit in with the other encounters. Risky enough that he could get hurt, even killed, but without him having to consciously make that decision, without him being the one to end his life. If it were rare, Harry wouldn't count it as a shady suicide attempt, and that pushed Harry to see these more as magical accidents.

Then Malfoy added, 'It'd been a while; I think this is the first time this year.'

'And it's almost Christmas,' Harry pointed out.

'Right.'

Harry was suddenly uncomfortable towering over Malfoy on the ground, so he held out his hand to help him up. Once he was standing, Harry felt just as awkward. 

'Um, do you think you need—'

'No, Potter. I'm a Healer, remember? These I can easily fix myself.'

Harry nodded and swallowed a couple of times, trying to find the words to best explain what he was thinking. 'Has your mother told you her idea behind—' Harry didn't know what to call it, so he just gestured to the general area. 

'No, but I can probably guess what she was thinking.'

Harry waited, but Malfoy didn't continue, so Harry did. 'Why were you in all the places we've run into each other recently?'

'Why were you?' Malfoy shot back, glaring at Harry.

'Whoa, I'm not accusing you of anything.' Harry paused, but Malfoy continued to glare. 'Alright, let's say that hypothetically there is a magical explanation for all of these things happening. There has to be a counter-spell or something. Some way to stop it from continuing. Your mother thinks it's fate, and that's just—even if that is completely unrealistic, magic could explain it.'

The silence stretched as Malfoy stared at the ground his arms crossed, deep in thought, and Harry waiting for him to cut back at him with some sarcastic reply.

'I just . . . felt like going there.' Malfoy still stared at the ground. 'I felt like shopping without having to worry about who was staring at my back; I felt like ice skating because I hadn't since I was a kid, and I felt like going to Diagon Alley because I've been avoiding it for months. And I just like the way it looks around Christmas.' He looked back up to Harry. 'Which is why this was the first time I've been attacked this year. It's only my third trip here this year, but the other times were in the off season.'

So him being there that day would have been a bit reckless on his part, Harry decided. Still it was odd that he just felt like going to the same places Harry happened to be.

'What are you thinking?' Malfoy asked. 'That we hire a Curse Breaker? If we are in fact cursed, who would choose one like this? Or do you think we should research _fate_? I doubt there is much out there on that. How would anyone go about it?'

Harry hadn't thought any of it through. He was just beginning to accept that there might be a magical cause to the situation. But there was one thing he was sure of, and he hated to admit it or have to be the one to do it, but as he saw it, there was no other option. Plus, the magic clearly wanted it to be _Harry_.

'I think that you probably shouldn't go anywhere by yourself for awhile, so—' Harry groaned, hating what he was about to offer. 'If you need or _want_ to go somewhere, owl me.'

'Owl you?' Draco asked, confusion written across his brow. 

'I'll go with you. I assume we worth similar schedules as you are the day shift at St Mungo's right?'

'My schedule is mixed, but I'm sure I can work around yours.'

Harry smirked. 'I thought you'd fight with me about this.'

'I've almost died three times in one month, Potter. It might not be ideal, but if having you with me is going to keep me from getting murdered next the bins behind a pub, then I'm not going to reject the offer.' Draco rolled his eyes. 'I'm depressed; most of the time I can logically talk myself out of my suicidal impulses; after all, I'm still here, aren't I? Besides, one of the nice things about doing it yourself is the preparation and getting to chose how it goes.'

Not sure what to say to that Harry just nodded.

Draco shook his head. 'I wish mother hadn't told you about that.'

'I think I more figured it out myself, actually.' Harry shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned back against the building. Although it was awkward standing next to trash bins, walking around the corner of the building with Malfoy would be entering a new world that Harry wasn't sure he was prepared for. There he was just Harry Potter doing what he always did: saving people. Draco Malfoy was just the person he saved.

But once they rounded that corner, people would see them walking together. And Harry wouldn't be taking him to St Mungo's or home as part of fixing what was broken. They'd be walking down the road together as something other than distant acquaintances that at one time went to school together, but Harry wasn't sure there was a name for what they'd become to each other. And something about that unknown relationship that was waiting for them terrified Harry.

So, it wasn't very brave, but Harry was stalling.

'Why won't you see a Mind Healer?'

'All they'll want me to do is talk.'

'Well, if that's what you need to do—'

'I'm a Death Eater, Potter. The mark is gone, but everybody knows the truth. Nobody wants to sympathise with me, not even if they're paid for it.'

#

It turned out that fate had been studied. It had been studied in depth for years by many people, and a simple search gave Harry enough books on the subject to do nothing in his spare time except read for probably about six months. He couldn't handle the situation for that long. Christmas was coming, and statically holidays were horrible for accidents and crime in general. There was a looming feeling over Harry that something bad would happen to Malfoy if Harry didn't figure the situation out by then.

So Harry owled Bill.

'I'm not sure I've ever heard of such a curse, Harry,' Bill said. 'What would the point of it be?'

He'd Flooed into Harry's flat and was still standing by the fireplace as they talked.

'Logically to kill Malfoy. Look, he keeps almost dying and what if I'm the only one that can save him? It's common knowledge that we hate each other. Maybe whoever cast it thought I'd be glad for the opportunity to let him die?'

Harry was an Auror, and though his cases weren't as excited as he'd pictured them, he'd heard stories about the worst ones when he was in training. Criminal thought processes weren't always sound, but they had a thread of logic in them. Often a thin one.

'I can look into and talk to some of my colleagues, but I'm not sure if we'll find what you're looking for.' 

Bill had stopped looking at Harry by then and was scanning the pictures and cards that were displayed on Harry's mantle.

'So what do you suggest I do then?' Harry asked frustrated. He did not want to read all those books on fate.

'You could start on this stack of books.' Bill toed the pile that sat next to the hearth. 

Harry should probably move them before he accidently caught them on fire.

Then Bill laughed at one of the cards and picked it up and said, 'Or you can give him is,' and handed it to Harry.

It had mistletoe on the front and said: let's make out. Ginny had given it to him the first Christmas after the war, and then she broke up with him when he didn't laugh with her and follow the instructions like he was supposed to.

Rolling his eyes, Harry said, 'Very funny.'

'I'm serious, Harry. If you feel like this magic is trying to keep you near him, then maybe you should give in to it and spend some time with him.'

'You know, if I were under a love potion, that'd be horrible advice.'

Bill crossed his arm and gave Harry a scrutinizing look. 'Are you in love with him?' 

'No!' Harry stood and threw the card into the fire. He didn't know why he kept it so long anyway.

'Then I guess we don't have to worry about a love potion.' Bill smirked at Harry, and Harry took a deep breath, leaned against the mantle and groaned.

'We kind of already are spending more time together.'

'Really?' Bill sounded surprised.

'I offered to take him anywhere he needed to go, you know, for his safety.'

Bill smiled fondly at Harry, shaking his head and then he went to look through the books Harry had brought home from the library on the magic of fate. After shifting through the pile, he handed Harry the thinnest book among them.

'A little inside tip, but never breath a word of this to Hermione.'

Harry nodded.

'Then smaller books—' Bill flipped through the back pages, 'with the longer source pages tend to give the most useful details from the best research on the subject. If you need more information about the something you read in here, then you look up the source and read only that part of the much larger books. Saves time and helps you find what you're looking for faster.'

#

Harry woke to an owl tapping at his window. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and then sent a quick spell to open the window. The owl dropped a letter on this desk and left. The sender must not have wanted a reply. 

Since Harry fell asleep at his desk his glasses had fallen off and were smudged by his cheek, so he cleaned them before opening the letter.

It was from Malfoy. Harry groaned as he'd almost forgotten the arrangement he'd made with him. Malfoy always rose, at least, an hour before the sun. Harry supposed he should be thankful that it was already high in the sky that morning. Even though Malfoy hadn't left his house for much other than working for years, he'd suddenly felt like he simply needed to be places rather frequently. 

The letter, thankfully, mentioned two o'clock. Harry could go to bed for a while before meeting with Malfoy. Slipping the book he'd been reading when he fell asleep the night before off his desk, he went to bed.

Reluctantly, Harry had taken Bill's advice, and the introductory chaptered explained why his friends and Narcissa Malfoy seemed to believe these were all signs that Harry and Malfoy just needed to marry already. The idea didn't seem as funny to Harry anymore.

**The Fated Ones**

_The Fated Ones as they are called is what most wizards think of when one mentions the word "fate", so it seems to me the best place to start a book on the subject. Fated Ones were part of folklore long before writing down stories became popular, and much like our favourite fairy tales, every culture has their own take on their story. But they all follow the same basic format._

_Fated Ones have strong feelings toward each other from the moment they first met. It is more common in the stories for it be a love at first sight variety, but a few (notably, two of Scandinavian origin) it was the opposite. One of the darker stories naturally had their hatred of each other cause them a slow and painful death caused by losing control of their magical gifts. Still to be one of the chosen Fated Ones meant unique and special powers when near each other, and the Fated Ones who've made history follow the same pattern._

_Muggles have bastardised these tales to the point that many believe every person has one person they are fated to be with. Wizards know that is not the case. Being a Fated One is a special magical ability much like the Veela's allure or more so like a Metamorphmagus as they are simply ordinary witches and wizards when not near their fated counterpart. Although Fated Ones are born in pairs, they do not need to be the same age. Their special abilities only come out after they met, but not necessarily all at once or right away._

_As Fated One originated in folklore, many wizards are skeptical of their actual existence. They might explain away the intensity of their magic as being caused by being near someone they hold dear and think that all wizards would or could do the same. If one loses an acquired special ability when their fated counterpart dies, then the skeptic would blame the wizard's emotional state for its absence._

_Still both the common and the pureblood wizards tend to agree that Fated Ones are real._

_Wizards who are part of a fated pair often made history. Evelyna White could make grass, trees, and flowers grow from just touching the ground when her pair was near, and Edmond Proud, her pair, could destroy forests the same way she could create them. They conquered many lands and were worshiped as Gods before in a jealous rage Evelyna strangled Edmond with vines. She lost her ability with his death and was unable to finish strangling herself alongside him._

_The world famous playwrights, Tristan and Opla Berg, were pairs. Opla could only speak poetry when Tristan was around, and he became so graceful his every moment seemed like a dance. Then there were the philosophers Sam and Anita Wheeler, who could memorize entire books at a glance and read people's thoughts without casting a spell respectively. Although never confirmed as Fated Ones, Merlin was known to be more powerful when Arthur was by his side._

_Of course, Fated Ones who hated each other often died before they could become great._

_A Notable exception was Sir George Marney and Princess Sabra. After killing a dragon to save her, they detested each other to the point they refused to be within looking distance of each other. Although George still became a Saint, he never did anything noteworthy after that first meeting with Sabra and her power was never revealed._

_Because Fated Ones have an intense desire to be near each other, the pair often met no matter how far they attempted to travel from each other. They both became more reckless in their attempts to escape each other, causing an accident where Princess Sabra slipped and drowned in a river, and Sir George encountered a different dragon, which without Sabra near him he was unable to fight, and it ate him.  
_

#

'Candy?' Harry said. 'You called me out here because you wanted candy?'

'Were you busy?' Malfoy huffed, but blushed and wouldn't look at Harry.

Harry rolled his eyes and refusing to answer pushed his way into the sweets shop. Malfoy had a craving for chocolate and felt he must pick it out himself instead of simply placing a quick owl order. He'd have had his chocolate long before two if he'd sent the owl to the shop instead of Harry earlier that morning.

But since they were there, Harry decided he'd something for himself, and he wondered around on the opposite side of the shop as Malfoy while still keeping an eye on him.

Even though Harry hadn't got far into his reading before he fell asleep the night before the little that he read was still on his mind. If they were right and Harry and Malfoy were Fated Ones, then would they die if they kept fighting to distance themselves from each other?

The last thing Harry wanted to do was talk about it, but he knew they had to. 

When Harry saw Malfoy waiting at the till Harry grabbed a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and joined him.

Malfoy snorted at Harry's selection, but Harry didn't take the bait. 

'We need to talk,' Harry said.

'About what?'

'I've been reading about fate, well about Fated Ones—'

Malfoy groaned. 'Please, don't.'

'I'm not saying I believe it!' Harry took a deep breath because he had begun to believe it even if there might be much better explanations for what was happening to them later on in the book. The author did say he was starting with the most common knowledge on the subject. That meant there had to be a lot of non-common knowledge on it. Harry just had to get through the chapter on Fate Ones without losing his mind first.

'I'm just suggesting that we research it, or that you help me research it so that I'm not going crazy on my own.'

Malfoy smirked at him.

'What?' Harry asked as they made their way out of the shop.

'You've been researching fate?'

Harry shrugged. 'Fate Ones aren't the only type of fate.' Harry knew he said the right thing by the look on Malfoy's face. 'And I'm hoping to disprove their theory on it. There are skeptics you know. Fate Ones might not even be real! They were part of folklore.'

'Yes,' Malfoy agreed, 'but so were dragons.'


	4. Chapter 4

'This is the best Plum Pudding I've ever tasted, Mrs Weasley.'

'Harry, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Molly?'

Harry shrugged. It didn't feel right to call her Molly. She was Mrs Weasley, Ron's mum, and she always would be. 

After spending a whole day doing nothing but sitting with Malfoy and reading, Harry needed a break. So he came to Mrs Weasley, and she was happy to cook for him and let him rest in the living room. Harry sighed. He did need to start dating, again.

They'd learned a whole lot about nothing that could help them, but Draco pointed out it was only one day. They couldn't fix whatever was happening to them in one day. There were many other types of fate other than the Fated Ones, but they were the only thing that fit right then. And they fit far too well for Harry's liking.

'Would it be so bad?' Mrs Weasley asked when he explained everything that was going on. Unlike everyone else, she didn't go all wide-eyed with shock as the told the story which was probably why she got the full version instead of just pieces of it.

'Of course, it would!'

'Why?' She countered.

'Why? why? I don't know why,' he said it as he realised it was true. 'It's just that it is Malfoy, and, and—'

'Do you find him attractive?'

Harry swallowed. 'Perhaps a little.'

She chuckled to herself.

'He hates me,' Harry explained. 'I can't be in love with him. I just can't. It would be such a stupid thing to do.'

'Ah, love.' Mrs Weasley patted his hand that was resting on his knee. 'We don't get to choose who we love. Not a one of us.'

#

The next day Malfoy arrived at his flat bright and early. Harry was still in his nightclothes and made some coffee while Malfoy sat on his couch and thumbed through the book he'd left off reading the day before. 

Malfoy didn't seem to hate Harry, and if anything was talking the whole situation better than Harry was. Harry took the spot next to him and handed Malfoy his cup of coffee.

'Thanks,' Malfoy said.

At first, Malfoy wasn't taking it well. He seemed so angry about it all. Instead of picking up his own book, Harry watched Malfoy read.

'What changed? Why aren't you upset about this?'

'My moods change so fast and often, even I don't try and make sense of them anymore.' Malfoy snorted. 'I was more upset about anyone knowing about my problems. As I'm sure you noticed, I was also angry at my mother at the time.' He put his book down. 'And yesterday, I was just tired of hearing about fate. My mother talks about it too much. It's not so much that I'm opposed to the idea that— Anyway, it's more that I hate the idea that I have no choice, no control over where my life goes.'

'But no one chooses who they fall in love with.'

'True.' Malfoy laughed. 'But generally that's alright because the two people love each other—not all soulmates are about love or even like each other. We've done nothing but fight with each other for years.'

For some reason, Harry felt the need to defend their relationship. 'We're not fighting now.'

Malfoy arched an eyebrow.

'Well, we weren't.' Harry crossed his arms. 'And what do you mean soulmates?'

'Oh,' Malfoy said, surprised. 'That's what people call it. Folktales are the only thing that ever called them Fated Ones, but I guess you're still reading about other types of fate . . . why are you looking at me like that?'

Harry shook his head. 'Sorry.'

#

Harry pulled out his old school trunk and flipped opened the lid. It still had all these things from school in it aside from his clothes. He'd pulled them out and left his trunk at the foot of his bed to forget about it for years. One of the first things he pulled out was the Marauder's map.

Chuckling to himself he opened it whispered, 'I solemnly swear I'm up to no good,' and watched it come to life. It made him feel old to look at it again and recognise so few of the names. Had it been so long since he'd been there? More likely that he simply hadn't known many of the student much younger than himself. Most of the teachers were the same with a few noticeable exceptions.

A new Headmaster, as well as a Deputy Headmaster since McGonagall, retired the year before. That meant a new Transfiguration professor as well as Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Professor Sprout was still there, teaching Neville, who'd replace her eventually, with Hagrid and all the others. After folding up the map, he shifted through his books. He really should get a shelf for them or sell them to a used bookstore as he probably won't have a need for them anymore.

Eventually, Harry found his Potter Stinks badge and then wonder if that was what he was looking for the whole time.

Malfoy was busy with Pansy for the day. He owled Harry in the morning to let him know he wouldn't be by. It was odd that he felt the need to do that, but odder still that Harry would have waited for him had he not sent it. 

There was nothing else in his school trunk to remind him of Malfoy.

Harry put everything back into his trunk and shut the lid then padded into his kitchen to make some hot chocolate. After settling in on the couch with his mug, he stared at his Christmas decorations. Malfoy snorted at them when he'd first seen them.

'Your prejudice against Slytherin even made it onto your tree.'

He didn't remember the exact moment he decided he needed to cut all things Malfoy out of his life, but it was rather extensive. Green was a much more popular Christmas colour with gold usually an accent, and Harry even got a fake white tree so there wouldn't be any green in it either. Trees weren't even Slytherin green, and somehow it reminded Harry of Malfoy.

It wasn't a Slytherin prejudice anymore. It hadn't been since the moment Harry watched Snape died and then saw his memories. 

Maybe it never had been. Both Ron and Hagrid had said negative things about Slytherin, but that wasn't the reason Harry had begged the hat not to place him there.

It was where Malfoy was, and Harry knew even then he had to stay away from him.

Swallowing another sip of his drink, Harry let the painful memories surround him. The more Harry pushed Malfoy away, the more he seemed to be drawn to him. Until Malfoy's world was turned upside down and suddenly Harry wasn't his sole focus anymore. Malfoy wasn't pushing Harry away, but he'd felt his absence their sixth year.

A green flame burst from Harry's fireplace, and suddenly, Malfoy was there.

'I thought you weren't coming by.'

Malfoy looked at his cup instead of answering asked, 'You have anymore?'

'Yeah,' Harry said. 'There's hot water in the kettle.'

Harry wondered how much of his curiosity about Malfoy that year had nothing to do with what Malfoy was doing for Voldemort, and as reluctant as he was to admit it Harry was beginning to see why his friends were so sure Harry wanted little bits of information about Malfoy long after Harry had tried to erase him from his life.

Malfoy came back and sat next to Harry, letting their knees brush against each other.

#

'You know, most sane people request time off around the holidays,' the white haired witch said with a smirk. 

'A auror's job is never done,' Harry replied without much thought. Crime went up around the holidays, so even though most of the Aurors would have preferred it off, they worked more than ever. Harry volunteered to work as many hours as he could. He'd spend the few hours he had off on Christmas day at the Burrow, but he liked to help out the ones with families—especially with young kids, like Ron—be able to stay at home with them. They'd return the favour in January when Harry would take a week off to just sleep.

'Oh, you must have much bigger things to be worrying about than little old me.'

That got Harry's attention. He looked the woman over again. Her white hair was fake to add age to her appearance. She was a quite young woman. Before Harry had thought the call to the Aurors over a little old lady stealing was dramatic if not outright overkill—there were Hit Wizards for a reason—but there was something off about her. She was hoping he'd let her go, and Harry might have a few second before in the spirit of Christmas.

Instead, Harry wanted to know more about her. Smiling Harry said, 'It's my job.' He pretended to hesitate a moment and then asked the shopkeeper what it was she stole.

'Just some newt's eyes is all,' the woman said.

They were common enough, but she could have stashed something more dangerous. He looked at the shopkeeper who nodded. 'It was all I found.'

'Have they been returned?'

After they had both agreed, Harry let her leave, but never took his eyes off of her. As soon as the door was closed he asked, 'What else do you think she got?' Harry watched her fake hobbled steps through the window.

'Asphodel.'

'Thanks.' And then Harry pulled out his wand and was quick on her heels. It was one of the ingredients in Draught of living death, but it had many uses. So it wasn't illegal to buy or sell, but its sale was tracked, and she didn't want her name on that list which meant whatever she was making couldn't have been good.

Around the corner from the shop, the women dropped her hobbling act, and Harry used a Disillusionment Charm on himself to keep close to her. She couldn't Apparate there, not since the war. But she could run out into Muggle London and Apparate from there. There was simply no way the Ministry could have much control in Muggle areas. 

Harry could try to read her mind, but if she felt him there it would most likely cause a splitch, and he wanted to know where she was going, not for her die.

Luckily, she headed toward a shop with a Floo and Harry hoped she planned to use it.

She walked with purpose to the Floo and clearly stated, 'White Rose Inn,' before she disappeared in a green flame.

After waiting a couple of minutes, Harry followed her. If the flames rose too quickly behind her and no one stepped out, she might notice.

Harry expected a busy inn, but he entered what appeared to be an empty living room with a circle of white rose laid out on the floor. He walked toward it and—

#

Ron knocked on the door of Malfoy Manor. He was going to kill Harry. It was Ron's vacation and Harry just disappeared in the middle of shoplifting call of all things. The way Harry's life had been going recently, he probably ran into Malfoy had to save his life again, but that did not mean he could just disappear without sending an owl.

Narcissa answered the door, and Ron fumbled for words. He'd pictured Malfoy or maybe even Harry.

'Um, is Malfoy here?'

She shook her head, 'he's at work.'

'Oh.' Ron blushed. It had been a leap in logic that Harry would be there of all places, but he had been spending a lot of time with Malfoy, and they weren't at Harry's flat. It was the first place he looked. 'I'm looking for Harry. Harry Potter, obviously. Have you seen him recently?'

'Oh dear, has he gone missing?' 

Ron cringed. She looked worried. 'No, it's just he's gone off . . . somewhere.' Ron was so sure that he had something to do with Malfoy. Harry only did things like this when it had something to do with Malfoy.

'Does he do that often?'

'Not really.' Shite. Now she had Ron worried. 'I mean sometimes he does, but it usually means he is—' Being a crazy stalker about Malfoy, but Ron couldn't say that to her. 'With Malfoy.'

'Come in.' She opened the door wider and gestured in. 'I'll call him on the Floo.'

#

Draco's mother didn't often call him at work, so naturally he ran to the Floo and asked, 'What happened? What's wrong?'

'Well, we're not sure yet, dear.' There were worry lines around her eyes, but her words came out casual as always. 'Have you seen Harry?'

'I've been at work for the last—' He checked the time. 'Ten hours. Of course, I haven't seen him. Why? What happened? Has he been admitted?'

Suddenly Weasley's face appeared next to his mother's and went paler than it usually was.

'Bloody hell, he is missing.' 

'Wait here.' Draco grabbed the nearest Mediwizard and told them he had a family emergency to get the information back to his supervisor. Then he ran to the Floo to join his mother and Weasley because there was no way he'd be of any use to the patients not knowing what sort of trouble his ridiculous soul mate had gotten himself into this time.

#

Agatha loved mistletoe. So even though she didn't need it for the spell, she hung it above the rose circle on the floor where the Auror lay asleep under her spell. 

She wasn't the greatest as potions, and it was crucial that this one worked when she used it. Her original plan had not involved the Auror, but he followed her and left her without much of a choice. No one could remain suspicious of her, or it could be traced back to her after she got rid of the bitch.

Agatha took a few deep breaths to calm herself down. There was no reason to think of her backstabbing ex right then it would only cause her to make a mistake. Besides, she would get her back. Once Agatha saved her from her horrid wife, she would see that she belonged with Agatha.

All she had to do was slip her the right dosage of the Draught of Living Death and kiss her back to life.

It had to be just the right amount because she didn't want to kill Meryl.

The Auror would be the subject perfect to use for practice before she had to make him disappear altogether.


	5. Chapter 5

'How is this soulmate thing so useless?' Ron asked as he paced around the Malfoy's living room. 'Shouldn't you be able to sniff him out or something?'

'I'm not a dog, Weasley.' 

'Still, what good is it?'

'Can you keep your inferiority complex out of anything for a few minutes?'

'Now, boys,' Narcissa cut in. 'This is hardly helping anything. Mr Weasley has a point. If you and Harry are soulmates, then there should be some way for us to use this to help find him. How was it that you kept finding each other before?'

Malfoy sighed and ran his hands through his hair which fell back into place as if he hadn't touched it. 'We just went places we felt like going.'

'Where they out of the ordinary?' she asked.

'Not completely. They weren't places I'd ever been to, but places I'd at least heard of before. Don't you think I would have already thought of that? I feel a pull, but it has no direction. I've never been to nor heard of the place he's at right now.'

#

Agatha took only two drops of the Draught of Living Death and dropped them into the Auror's mouth. Air escaped from him, making a gasping sound but the Auror, still under Agatha's spell didn't move. Stepping back, she released her spells on him and waited.

#

Weasley took them to the shop that the Head Auror said Harry had been called to.

'I knew there was something off about that woman,' the shopkeeper said. 'Auror Potter followed her. He Disillusioned himself before he left.'

Draco was pulled to the street, and he followed his instincts with Weasley quick behind him until they found themselves near the Floo of a book shop. Draco spun around looking at the many people gathered in the shop and knew what must have happened. Harry followed her into the Floo, but they could have gone anywhere.

Turning to the till Draco made eye contact with the shopkeeper and headed toward him. He was busy with it being the middle of Christmas shopping season, but there was a chance he remembered seeing the woman. But after his first few steps Draco saw a change come over the man's face and before he could stop himself from taking another step forward, the shopkeeper sent a spell shoving him back.

'I don't serve your kind here. We don't sell your kind of books, anyway.'

Weasley was beside Draco in a second and pointing his wand back at the shopkeeper. 'Lower your wand.' The shopkeeper did after Weasley pulled out his badge. 'Auror Weasley, we're here investigating a disappearance and need a few words with you..' 

'I'll speak with you, but he has to wait outside.'

Draco rolled his eyes and stormed out of the shop before Weasley could give him a sympathetic look and asked him to. Even an Auror escort didn't stop some people. It should have been a sign for Draco to be on his guard but he was too angry at the moment to be scared, and he didn't keep his wand in hand.

As Draco's head smashed into the stone wall behind his head, all he could think was, hopefully, Weasley was a better Auror than he appeared. A good Auror would have kept an eye out.

#

Once Agatha was sure that the Auror was subdued by her potion she took the wine with the antidote and took a sip, making sure to cover her lips with the sweet wine.

The Auror was still completely surrounded by the circle of roses, and she was careful not to disturb them as she leaned over his prone form and pressed their lips together. Pulling back she watched his face hoping and waiting.

#

Ron tried to keep his tone friendly with the book shopkeeper. Malfoy wasn't his favourite person in the world either, but Harry fought long and hard for people like Malfoy—okay, who was Ron kidding, it had always been for Malfoy—to be forgiven and to be allowed to move on from the past.

'I can't say I remember her,' the shopkeeper said. 'We've been busy trying to keep up with the season's demands. Even if I'd seen her, I'm always at the till and wouldn't have heard where she'd gone to. You're welcome to ask around.' Then he pointed to a wingback chair in the corner not too far from the Floo. 'That bloke's been here most the day.'

He nodded to the shopkeeper and moved over to the man.

'Excuse me, sir,' Ron said. 

The man blinked up at him. 

'Hullo, I'm Auror Weasley, and I was wondering if you saw a middle-aged woman with long white hair go through this Floo earlier today?' 

'Ah, yes,' the man said with his words slow and dry as if it were difficult for him to speak. 'It went . . . twice . . . do you think . . . you could . . . get me . . . a drink?'

Ron took a deep breath. 'Yes, of course.' He conjured him a glass of water and handed it to him and waited as he drank it. 'Now, did you say twice?'

'Yes, once . . . with . . . her and . . . once . . . empty.'

Harry had certainly followed her. 

'Did you hear where she went?'

'I think . . . it . . . was . . .' The man took another long drink of water. 'An . . . inn.'

'An inn? Great. Did you get the name?'

#

Harry opened his eyes. His throat burned, and the woman with long white hair was staring down at him. He grabbed her by the throat as he looked for his wand with his other hand. She hadn't taken it off of him. 

After stunning her and binding her wrists, he took in his surrounding. There were two glasses of wine sitting on the floor.

Harry wasn't in any position to secure the area. He needed to get to St Mungo's himself, so he tried to step out of the white roses, but they were holding him. The woman was half in and half out of the circle. Harry pulled her into the circle of roses causing the circle to break. 

It was foolish of her to stay so close to him. She wasn't a regular at this type of magic.

He Apparated her to the Ministry and checked in with the Head Auror.

'You better go find your partner, he was out of his mind worrying about you.'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'He needs to learn to have a little faith in me.'

Since Ron was probably at the shop the woman, Harry had learned her name was Agatha, was stealing from, he took the Floo back to the bookstore.

'A rose . . . something . . . a something . . . colour.'

Ron was rubbing his head as the old man tried to remember the name of the inn. Harry hadn't noticed him on his way into the Floo, but it was probably a good thing. Had Agatha not been such an amateur, Harry would have needed Ron there.

Harry smiled. 'Looking for someone?'

'Harry!' Ron grabbed him into a hug. 'You are not supposed to go on missions without a partner.'

'What was I supposed to do, let her get away?'

Ron shook his head. 'You better get outside and comfort your soulmate, before he bursts in here and kills you. The shopkeeper here already doesn't like him.'

Harry looked out the front window. 'Where?'

'Oh shite!' Ron ran through the front door, and Harry was quick behind him.

The old man shouted, 'White! It was . . .' behind them.

#

'I thought for a moment,' Draco said, 'that I'd be the one to rescue you.'

Harry smiled and then kissed Draco's forehead. 'I'm an Auror, Draco. I get into dangerous situations. It's part of the job. You just need to trust that I'll always come home.'

'Come home?' Draco squinted against the light, and his head throbbed. 

'Come, sit and have a drink with me.' Harry gestured behind him, and Draco's head cleared enough to take in more of their surroundings. Harry grabbed of a bottle of wine from a rack that looked like a Christmas tree. The next thing Draco knew two glasses of wine were floating in front of them. Perhaps it was that Harry was pouring wine of all things, but more likely it was the tree, Draco realised he must be dreaming.

#

'We were in the middle of an investigation!'

They were running down the road, and both stopped and looked both directions when they came to the first cross street. Harry knew it wasn't Ron's responsibility to watch Malfoy, but they'd been together, Ron was an Auror, and Malfoy couldn't seem to go out in public without almost dying. On the up side, this was certainly not him trying to kill himself, so Harry supposed he should be thankful for that.

'Where are we going?' Ron asked.

'I don't know!' Harry took a breath to steady himself. 'I'm sorry. I just need to think.' 

There was no sight of Malfoy, and the streets were crowded with people. Whoever they were probably didn't stick around long. Harry hoped it was someone with a more elaborate plan and not someone who had just happened upon Malfoy because, in Harry's experience, that meant they had more time.

'Come on,' Ron said. 'We're Aurors. Finding missing people is what we _do_.'

'Right, so if this were a case, and we were stuck we'd—'

'Consult with someone from the Department of Mysteries!'

'Er . . .' 

Ron was right, but Harry wasn't sure they had that kind of time. Still it was the best idea they had.

'Can we use the visitor's entrance? I think I'll hurl if we attempt the toilets right now.'

'Alright, mate,' Ron said, and Harry could tell he was trying not to laugh. A moment later they were standing outside of the red telephone box and after a quick look around to see the street was empty, they entered it and called down to the Ministry.

'Aurors Potter and Weasley here.'

'And what is your purpose of using the visitor's entrance this afternoon?' said a lady's irritated voice through the telephone.

'Er.' Ron glanced at Harry and then back at the phone. 'Well, we'd like to visit the Magical Bonds Department for personal reasons.'

'What?' Harry said at the same time as the lady on the phone.

'Not for _that_. It's a long story, and we don't have much time. Please, just let us in.'

'Fine.' She hung up, and the box dropped down.

'The Magical Bonds Department,' Harry said glaring at Ron. 'For _personal_ reasons! Ron, we don't have time for this.'

'They can help us, Harry. Just give it a shot.'

They didn't know anything for sure, and Harry didn't like the idea of risking Malfoy's life on a hunch.

Ron cleared his throat as they walked through the halls to the elevator. 'You're not feeling drawn to any place in particular right now, are you?'

'What?'

'Like when you went ice skating the other day?'

Harry sped up as if to run away from the conversation. He opened the door and ran right into Bill as he stumbled out of the department. 

'Harry!' Bill said cheerfully. 'What brings you here?'

'Ron,' Harry said in a not so friendly manner.

'Ron?' Bill's face contorted with question. 

Ron caught up with them then and said, 'Malfoy!'

'Ah, now that makes more sense.'

'Malfoy has been kidnapped,' Ron clarified. 'And I think their bond might help us find him.'

Bill eyed Harry for a second and then said, 'No objecting to him being your soulmate then? Good, because that's pretty much all I've found.'

Harry waved away the subject. 'Never mind about all of that now. How can this help us find him.'

'He's very irritable,' Ron said to Bill. 'It's only gotten worse, which can't be good.' Ron seemed lost in thought for a second. 'Malfoy was too when Harry was missing, but that's normal for Malfoy.'

'Can we, please, move on.'

Smiling, Bill shook his head at Ron. 'It doesn't affect mood that quickly or to that degree. You're searching too much, but I do think they can help you.' Bill nodded to the door he'd just come out of. He opened it and gestured them both inside. 'Mary! Here is half of the pair I've been telling you about.'

'Oh! So soon?' A dainty woman with curly black hair and large brown eyes came around her desk to greet them all the while talking directly to Bill. 'I thought they were in denial?'

'Look,' Harry said. 'I'm not sure I do believe any of this, but if it will help us Malfoy before he is murdered then can we please get on with it. If it doesn't work, we don't have much time. It might already be too late. Most people don't—'

Mary's eyes widened, and she quickly grabbed Harry's hand. 'Alright, working quickly then. This is why denial is so dangerous, Auror Potter.'

Harry glared at Bill. 'You told her our names?'

'It's on your badge,' Mary said, 'and before you get any ideas, I could tell you were half of the pair by your little speech. Now shut it and let me work.' She cast a spell that looped around his wrist and up his arm. It slowly grew until it was all around his body from head to toe.

Mary poked at it, and it changed from gold to silver as she nodded her head. 'You certainly are a Fated One, Auror Potter, and it does look like your pair is in danger—calm down and let me see.' She tisked, tisked as she shook her head at him and ended the spell just to cast another one on him. 'This is generally used to help people find their pairs when they don't know who they are, but I think it will work equally well in this situation if the person you're looking for is your pair. Well, what are you waiting for? It's ready! Hurry!'

Bill and Ron looked at Harry. Although the second spell she cast left no visible trail, Harry could feel the pull. It was much stronger than it was before. Harry ran. He ran out of the Ministry and down street. 

He had no idea where he was going but for the moment, he hoped that it all was true if only for Malfoy's sake.


	6. Chapter 6

In Auror training, they had spent a whole week on not going with the obvious answer. They were Aurors and not Hit Wizards for a reason. They dealt with the difficult cases, the ones the Hit Wizards had lost all trails on. But still sometimes the simplest reasons were the correct ones. 

Malfoy laid bloody and beaten behind a trash bin not far from where he'd disappeared. Unconscious and covered in snow so that no one who wasn't looking specifically for him in that alley would have ever dug to find him. He was cold to the touch but not dead. Harry Apparated him to St Mungo's. That time Harry refused to leave the room Malfoy was in at any time. The Healers just had to work under Harry's supervision.

It wasn't lost on Harry that his behaviour wouldn't have been allowed by any other guest, but he was Harry Potter and for once it should give him something he wanted.

For some reason, Harry had pictured them taking care of Malfoy as one of their own. He was a Healer and worked with them daily, after all, but they treated him with a casual indifference. If anything, they treated Harry with care. He wasn't the one near death in the bed. Harry sat by his bed long after everyone had left and waited for signs of life.

Harry had stared at Malfoy a lot over the years. He watched him as he ate meals and made a habit of keeping track of him as he walked through the halls. All through Harry's favourite Quidditch games. They were boring without Malfoy there. But he'd never had the chance to look at him so up close and for so long without being disrupted by one thing or other.

A few hours after Malfoy opened his eyes for the first time, a Healer came in and discharged him. 

'You can take him home whenever you're ready.'

'What?' Harry asked, confused. 'He hasn't been coherent since we've got here.'

'He's fine,' the Healer said. 'The potions will keep him sleepy for a day or so, but then he should be back to normal. Sleep is what he needs right now, but we have too many patients who need this bed for him to stay here. He can sleep at home.'

Harry wanted to point out that they were neglecting their patient by sending him off with just anybody—it was known that Harry and Malfoy didn't have the most friendly of history together—but he didn't want them to wise up and keep Harry from him. They might let him go with someone far more dangerous in that case, so Harry settled for glaring at everyone as he took Malfoy to his flat. 

When they'd found Malfoy in the beginning, Harry sent Ron back to Mrs Malfoy to reassure her that Draco was safe again, but at St Mungo's. Harry Floo called her after he had Malfoy settled and explained that he didn't want to worry her, but Malfoy still needed some sleep.

If she saw Malfoy the way he was, she would mostly be filled with as much anxiety as Harry was and he didn't want that.

True to the Healer's words, though, the next afternoon Malfoy opened his eyes again.

Harry might have just finished off a bottle of wine to himself and was opening another one when he heard the slurred, 'Potter?'

'Don't get up too fast!' Harry said. 'Your head was hit pretty bad and the potions they have you on are strong. You need to take it easy for a few days.'

'Where am I?'

Harry flushed. 'My flat.' He didn't add that he was in Harry's bed, but that seemed obvious as who else's bed would he be in at Harry's flat? 'Are you hungry? I could bring you something?'

Malfoy tried to stand and Harry quickly grabbed his arm to steady him.

'Slowly.'

'Yeah, food. Sounds good.' Malfoy's speech was still slurred and his eyes were only half opened. 

Harry shouldn't have drank so much; he wouldn't be much help if he got so pissed he couldn't stand. Thankfully, he had eaten some beef stew with his first bottle of wine. Malfoy made it halfway to the door and had to stop.

'Are you sure you don't want me to bring it to you?'

'No,' Malfoy said and pointed to the door. 'Walking. Downstairs.'

Smiling, Harry nodded and helped him to the door glad his flat didn't have any stairs they'd have to attempt. After a lot of stumbling, Malfoy finally agreed to sit on the couch and let Harry bring him some stew.

Harry held the bowl, not trusting Malfoy to keep it in his lap and brought the spoon to Malfoy's mouth.

'Don't.' Malfoy tried to push Harry away, obviously not wanting Harry to feed him.

'I don't want you to hurt yourself.'

Malfoy tried to snort. 'On stew?' He grabbed the spoon but dropped it under the weight of the stew a few times before he let his head fall into his hands. It took a moment for him to swallow and get the word, 'fine' out, but once he could sit up again, he let Harry feed him.

Harry had to keep biting the corner of his lips to keep himself from smiling.

It was perverse and wrong. Malfoy was hurt and Harry should not be enjoying it, but he couldn't help it. Harry's hands began to shake as he remembered that first day at St Mungo's, pacing and waiting for news about Malfoy. 

After half of the bowl was gone, Malfoy didn't have the strength to sit up anymore, so Harry helped him lay down. Harry had run out of the door before he was even sure if Malfoy had fallen back to sleep.

The cold wind hit his face and woke him up. Harry had needed it. He hadn't been outside just to enjoy the outside in too long. Ron was covering for Harry at work that day, saying that he had more important things to deal with at the moment, but Harry needed the break from work regardless of everything else.

Harry walked until he found a park and sat on a bench just staring around at all the trees covered in ice. There was no denying what had happened the other day, and once Malfoy was in his right mind again, he was going to have to tell him all about it.

Malfoy's moods were so back and forth; Harry didn't know how he'd take it. Plus he was a pureblood, which just made everything more complicated in Harry's mind. Harry was sure Hermione would understand—there were cultural things that still tripped them up when it came to the magical world. Magical things that no one questioned. Magic just knew things, and they trusted it completely. Hermione knew why Harry had a hard time with that, even if she could logically talk herself into trusting it as well.

Like with the Fated One, the soulmates. Ron was perfectly fine with Harry and Malfoy somehow magically belonging together. 

_Malfoy_. 

It wasn't just the lack of choice in the matter—Mrs Weasley was right about no one getting to choose who they loved, and Harry might have to reexamine some of his past feelings—but what if Magic was wrong? What guided it? What if Malfoy wasn't the person Harry wanted? Worse still: what if Malfoy didn't want or love Harry back? Malfoy being a pureblood would just be with Harry, trusting it was the right thing.

That was the other way he saw Malfoy's quick turnabout. 

He'd been just as upset by the idea of Harry being his soulmate in the beginning, but when the reality of it being true presented itself to him, Malfoy just accepted it. Harry couldn't trust that Malfoy was there willingly, not with the way he was raised.

One of the trees had small red berries on it and Harry thought they looked the season and broke a frozen branch off the end of the tree.

Malfoy would probably think it was stupid, but at least, they weren't flowers.

When he go back to his flat, Malfoy was asleep, and Harry decided that he was safe enough on the couch, and if they were going to have sort of conversation about soulmates, Harry would certainly need another bottle of wine.

#

It was hours later—and Harry was through a couple of bottles of wine—before Draco began to mumble in his sleep. Somewhere in the middle of the first bottle, Harry decided that if he was going to accept that not only were soulmates a thing but that Malfoy was his, he should probably call him Draco. 

So as _Draco's_ words became more clear, Harry started to respond.

'Where am I?' Draco's eyes weren't opened, but it was the first sentence Harry could understand, so Harry was sure they would be soon.

'My flat. St Mungo's released you after giving you a bunch of potions. You just needed some sleep.'

'Are they gone?'

Although Harry's first instinct was to ask who, he was pretty sure he knew who Draco was referring to. 'Yes, I found you,' Harry said. 'You're safe now.'

'What did they want?' 

'To hurt you.' Harry's throat contracted, making it hard for him to breathe. They more than likely wanted his Draco dead but didn't have the guts or nerve to throw the killing blow. _His_ Draco. As if Draco were a popular enough name for him to think of Draco that way. Merlin, he was pissed. That might have been a bad idea. He was supposed to be taking care of Draco. 

Harry kneeled down next to the couch. 'Do you want more stew? It's been a few hours, but I could warm it up or get you fresh.'

'No, thank you.' Draco was quiet for a moment and said, 'You saved me, again.' Then he laughed. 'I thought for a moment that I'd be the one to rescue you.'

Harry smiled and then kissed Draco's forehead. 'I'm an Auror, Draco. I get into dangerous situations. It's part of the job. You just need to trust that I'll always come home.'

'Come home?' Draco squinted and stood up quickly.

'Come, sit and have a drink with me.' Harry gestured behind Draco to the couch he'd just leapt off of and filled two glasses with wine. 'You shouldn't move so quickly yet. It's not good for your head.'

Draco sat back down as he looked around him. 'Where am I?'

'My flat,' Harry reminded him. 'You were attacked in Diagon Alley and—well, I found you in the snow and took you to St Mungo's'

Waving him off, Draco said, 'I can figure out the rest myself . . . did you just kiss me?'

Flushing Harry glanced back to the pillow that Draco had been laying on just moments before. 'I might be a little tipsy.'

'A little?' Draco chuckled and Harry decided that he rather liked that sound.

'How's your head?'

'Better now that I'm sitting.' Then he took a sip of his wine. 'Ah, yes, much better now.'

'Careful, you probably shouldn't drink too much with all the potions they gave you.' Harry took another gulp of his wine and closed his eyes. 'Ron took me to the Bond Department while you were missing.' Harry stopped, hoping that Draco would ask a question or do something to stall the conversation, but he didn't. 'He thought it might help us find you . . . and he was right. It did. I found you. I found my soulmate. We're one of the lucky few that have them.' 

As Harry downed the rest of his glass, Draco said, 'That bothers you I take it.'

'Yes.' Harry grabbed Draco's hand and held it tightly, refusing to look at him. 'And no—I have no way of explaining this to you; you wouldn't understand.'

'Now who is the one with the mixed signals?' Draco squeezed Harry's hand to make the point. 'Are you saying you did kiss me?'

'Fuck.' Harry pulled Draco to him and kissed him on the mouth that time. The spell the women at the Bond Department had cast on Harry made him want to the moment he'd seen Draco lying in the snow. The force of the spell slowly dissipated. His desire to kiss him had not. Harry had simply watched him instead, but he couldn't hold back then. Not with Draco awake and Harry full of so much wine.

Draco felt so warm. Harry climbed into Draco's lap and devoured his mouth. Harry pulled back only to say, 'tell me you want this,' then changing his mind he said, 'no, don't say anything; your body can't lie to me, right?' 

Harry kissed down Draco's neck and then up around his jaw.

'Are you saying my mouth will?'

'Yes,' Harry said in between kissing it. 'It will. It most certainly will.' Harry frantically moved against Draco, trying to satisfy his need to be closer to him. 'Show me you want this.'

'I'm trying.' Draco's movements were still slow against Harry's. 

It made Harry slow down, remembering the situation they were in. 

'I'm trying, Potter.'

Harry dropped his forehead into the crook of Draco's neck as he tried to gain control of himself. 'I'm sorry. I'm pissed and you're still injured . . .'

'Potter.' Draco pulled Harry into a kiss. It was soft and lingered like the wine on Harry's breath. 'I want this. How dense are you? I was suicidal. Haven't you noticed that going away?'

'What do you mean?'

'I knew. I've known for years,' Draco explained. 'I grew up with the knowledge of soulmates with them in our folktales. I had no idea you'd never heard of them until you invited me to read about them with you. I figured it out when—I just figured it out, and just like you thought when you read about George and the Dragon: I thought you'd never . . .'

Harry kissed him, again. Talking was a horrible, horrible idea. Kissing was much safer ground. Because Draco was still weak, Harry kept it to that: just kissing. Just kissing and being wrapped in Draco's warmth. 

It was all Harry needed right then.

#

Harry tried not to be awkward as he brought Draco breakfast on the couch the next morning but, as usual, he failed miserably. 

Conversations were not Harry's strong suit and there was no way around it, they needed to talk. Draco stretched as Harry set down the tray and then sat next to him on the couch. 

'How are you feeling?'

'Um.' Draco looked around and then stared at Harry's Christmas tree wine rack and chuckled. 'Not a dream then.' Finally, he looked at Harry. 'Better. I'm doing better.' Leaning toward Harry, Draco kissed him. 'How are you doing?'

'Er, better,' Harry said with a smile. 

'Ugh,' Draco said as he tried to stand. 'We should go outside.'

'It's freezing out there.'

Smiling Draco said, 'I love the snow and I've been inside too long. You're here and can protect me.'

'Do you think you'll need it? I mean now that we're not running from . . .' Harry didn't know what to call it but knew better than to call it a curse anymore. 'You don't think you'll keep getting into life or death situations do you?'

'Potter, I'm a former Death Eater, people are going to attack me from time to time.' There was amusement in his voice. 'You'll just have to trust that I'll come home.'

Harry groaned and dropped his head into his hands. 'You remember that part?'

'Obviously.' Draco was standing and held his hand out for Harry to take. 'Come on, we can talk on a walk. I need some air and to move my legs. They're killing me.' Draco used a few cleaning charms instead of taking the time for a proper bath and then they both bundled up.

London was covered in snow, but it wasn't actively snowing. They walked together but did not touch. Draco took large breaths of air when they first left Harry's flat. His eyes were wide opened as he took in the snowy afternoon. Harry just watched him.

They walked until they came to a park and then followed a trail through it.

'So we're _not_ running away from being soul mates anymore?' Draco asked.

Harry shrugged as he kicked at the snow in front of him and walked. 'I'm not.'

'What made you change your mind?'

'It's a little hard not to believe it's true after a soulmate spell lead me right to you,' Harry pointed out.

Draco shook his head. 'That's not what I meant.' He'd been looking at the snow, but looked at Harry then. 'What made you change your mind about running away from me? Just because it's true doesn't mean we have to be together.'

'Doesn't it, though?'

A frown took over Draco's face. 'I'm not sure I like the idea of you being with me because you feel you don't have any other option.'

'See, and neither do I? I don't want you to be with me because it's too hard for you to be in a relationship with someone else or because you might _die_ without me.'

Draco stopped walking, causing Harry to get a few steps ahead. 

'Is that why you're with me because you're afraid that I might die?'

Turning toward him, Harry gaped trying to think of the right thing to say. It hadn't occurred to him that Draco would have the same worries that Harry had. He was a pure-blood. He'd grown up with these stories.

When Harry didn't answer, Draco said, 'I'll take that as a confirmation,' and turned to walk away.

The clock rang behind Harry as he ran to catch up to Draco. Panic filled Harry at the reminder that Christmas was just around the corner, and his time to fix things with Draco was running out.

'No,' Harry said as he grabbed Draco's arm and spun him around.

Draco yanked his arm away from Harry and then sighed. 'Potter, you just found out about this, and you need to figure out what you want.'

'I want you.' Harry brought his hand to Draco's face. 'I do. You've been all I thought about for years.'

With a sad smile, Draco pulled Harry's hand away from his face. 'Not all thoughts are good ones, and I don't doubt that you've thought about me, but I'm not sure I trust that as enough.'

#

Harry returned to work the next day and Draco went home.

'Can you believe it's already the week of Christmas?' Auror Johnson said as she sat with Harry filling out their paperwork for a call they'd just finished. 'Have you got all your shopping done yet?'

'Yeah,' Harry said, but then realised, 'no, actually. I've got one more person, but I have no idea what to get him.'

'Ah.' She nodded. 'I hate the picky ones. My sister is like that. Then if you ask her to be specific, she acts all insulted. As if being twins mean I can read the girl's mind.'

'Right. I wish being soul mates meant I could read his mind.' Harry didn't realise what he'd said until he saw the shocked expression on Johnson's face. 'Shite.'

'Well,' she said, once she recovered. 'When it rains it pours as they say, uh? Can't just be the Chosen One or the youngest Seeker in a century, but you got yourself a Soul Mate as well. I guess it makes sorta sense, though, doesn't it? Having the help of your soul mate near would make defeating the darkest wizard we've ever seen a bit easier, wouldn't it?'

It was Harry's turned to look at her in shock.

'What?' She felt her face as if she might have a spot on it, but then asked, 'Did I say something?'


	7. Chapter 7

It was early evening when Harry left work that day, so he went around a few shops to see if he could find something for Draco. Draco, even though he was still referring to Harry as Potter, and even though he most certainly would not be getting anything for Harry for Christmas, and even though he most likely didn't expect anything from Harry either.

Still, Harry wanted to get him something.

As he wandered through a bookstore and then a chocolatier and to a potion's supply store nothing said Draco or even Malfoy to him.

While looking around a Quidditch store, the shopkeeper shook his head at Harry and said, 'A little late to still be looking for presents, don't ya think?'

Harry over to him.

'Not that I'm complaining,' the shopkeeper said. 'You just look a little lost.'

'I have no idea what to get him, but he used to play—we used to play together . . . well, against each other.'

The shopkeeper looked slightly confused. 'Friend, family or forced work gift exchange?' 

'Not really any of those but it feels the more like the last one than any of the others.' Harry laughed as the shopkeeper looked even more confused. 'It's a long story. I just want to get him something, but I'm not sure what. He probably isn't going to care one way or the other, so I don't want it to be obvious that I put too much thought into it, but I also don't want to make it seem like I put no thought into it. I guess the problem is that I don't really know him.'

When Harry looked back at the shopkeeper, he was smiling. 'Ah, you're in love.'

Even though no one was there to witness it, Harry was just as embarrassed by the proclamation as when Professor Slughorn had declared it was the reason Harry wasn't doing so well during his Sixth Year. 

'So tell me what you do know about him: he plays against you in Quidditch. What position?'

'We were both Seekers. I was Gryffindor—'

The shopkeeper nodded along. 'Yes, yes, youngest in a century.' 

It caught Harry off guard but, of course, the man knew who Harry was. That he kept a Quidditch shop meant he probably followed Quidditch, even Hogwarts' Quidditch to have something to talk about with his younger customers. He had probably gone to Hogwarts himself at one point.

'A fellow Seeker, you said.' He lead Harry towards the Snitches, obviously, talking away and slowly putting two and two together. 'You were years '91 to '96 and there was—' He fumbled as the most memorable other male Seeker during those years was Cedric Diggory, and was sure that was who came to the man's mind. He was very attractive, and Harry watched him die. Hardly the person Harry was wanting to buy a gift for that day. Summerby replaced him the next year, but Harry spoke before the man contemplated that.

'He was Slytherin.'

There were still a couple of options there and the man smiled, at first, glad they moved on past the bump in their conversation before he realised the most likely person Harry was talking about. 

Draco was as infamous as Harry was famous.

'Well,' the shopkeeper cleared his throat.' For a Seeker, a Snitch is an obvious choice, and as they have flesh memories they can be as personal or impersonal as you wish to make them.' Harry remembered how Dumbledore had used the first one he'd caught to store the Resurrection Stone inside it. Only Harry could open it. 

It was personal but what would Harry put in it? It left him back at the beginning of his search. Still Harry looked at the Snitches without touching them.

'I didn't know they came in different metals.'

'Ah, well, not everyone is a fan of gold, and for personal use people like options. Also, at night, the silver is far easier to see where the gold disappears.'

'People play at night?'

Laughing, the shopkeeper nodded. 'What's stopping them?'

Harry bought a silver Snitch just in case he couldn't find anything else.

#

At home, Harry got out his wrapping paper but saw that it was all red and gold. From what Harry remembered Draco didn't have anything against red and gold per say and just because he was a Slytherin did not mean everything he received needed to be green and silver. 

But as he wrapped the present, he remembered Draco's comment about Harry's prejudice against Slytherin. 

There was no denying that Harry did avoid all things Slytherin because of Draco. It was why he didn't want in the house in the beginning and why he convinced himself they were all evil for so long.

It was silly to eliminate popular Christmas colours out of his life because of it, though. When Ron had brought it up as they decorated Harry's tree, Harry shrugged it off. There was nothing wrong with wanting everything to match. After Harry had finished wrapping Draco's present, he placed it under his tree and then took a red glass bulb off the tree and looked at it.

Red with gold glitter all around it.

Harry wondered what Draco was doing right then. If he was safe or he was stupidly putting himself in a dangerous situation again. 

Draco had known for years.

He had known when Narcissa asked for Harry's help that morning after he'd saved Draco's life and before that when Harry returned his wand. He most likely would have known during the Battle of Hogwarts. He would have known that just his presence at Harry's side would have made Harry more powerful. But he wasn't on Harry's side then. 

At least, Harry was pretty sure he wasn't.

Looking back, Harry saw how dangerous Draco's situation was that day. Even when he'd had his mother's wand it didn't work very well for him, but he'd still been there later after he'd lost her wand in the Room of Requirement.

He was there when Harry fought Voldemort. 

In Harry's memory, everyone was.

But his memories were fuzzy, and he didn't like revisiting them.

Suddenly it was important to Harry that Draco was there. Wandless and stupidly putting himself in a dangerous situation for Harry.

#

When Draco opened the door and saw Harry shivering in the snow, he sighed and leaned against the door frame. 'What are you doing here?'

'I'm an impulsive person.'

Draco shook his head and rolled his eyes, but Harry didn't miss the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He nodded inside and stood back to let Harry enter. The entryway held a grand staircase that had garland wrapped down the bannister. Even before coming all the way in, Harry was hit by the warmth and smells of Christmas: a fire going in the sitting room to the left with cinnamon and pine in the air.

Most of Narcissa's decorations were white—the ribbons and candles—with accents of silver and gold—the ornaments and candle holders. The green was the tree, the garland, and mixed with white in the mistletoe. But the stitches on the white table cloth were red instead of silver, and it matched the tree skirt. The packages beneath the trees an assortment of all colours from red to green to blue.

'I suppose you don't believe in Santa Claus,' Harry said. The Dursley's didn't put the presents under the tree until Christmas Eve after Harry and Dudley were in bed.

'Who?'

Harry shook his head while staring at the Christmas tree. 'Just a Muggle thing.' They had red and green striped candy canes hanging on it. It seemed so out of place to Harry with the rest of the decorations, but at the same time made the place feel more like a home instead of a showroom.

Draco made his way back over to the chair he'd been sitting in when Harry arrived. His book was laying on the seat of it, and he picked it up and placed it on his lap as he sat down. Not knowing what to do with himself, Harry followed but didn't sit down until Draco gestured to the other chair.

'Don't hang about in the doorway.'

They sat in silence for a moment before Harry asked, 'What would you generally do?'

'What do you mean?'

'If soulmates didn't hate each other but had just met, what would you do?'

Draco ran his fingers up and down the spine of his book, seemingly concentrating more on it than on the conversation. 'There's no custom with it if that is what you're asking. It's rare. But I suppose they would probably get to know each other.'

'Then why did you hide it from me for so long?'

'For the same reason you denied it for so long,' Draco countered. 'I was trying to beat it. Not all soulmates are lovers, I'm sure you've read about that, but I was certain that I would not be able to handle being just your friend. Besides, you made sure to remind me every chance you got that you'd deny me that as well.'

'Yet, you're the one pushing me away now.'

'Like I said before: I've had a long time to think about what I want, and you haven't.' Draco looked up, and their eyes met. 'You seem confused when you are around me.'

'I am confused when I'm around you,' Harry said more to himself than to Draco. 'How about a compromise. I'll think about what I want while we get to know each other. I'll . . . feel safer that way.'

Nodding, Draco watched Harry. 'And you won't try anything?'

'Well, I am an impulsive person.'

'Potter,' Draco whined.

Harry pressed his lips together. He didn't want to go back to calling Draco 'Malfoy' just to prove a point, but he also hated the idea of asking him to call him by his given name. Harry had hoped that Draco would take the hint.

Either way, judging by the look that came over Draco's face, he knew what Harry was thinking without Harry saying a word about it.

Draco cleared his throat. 'The first thing you need to learn about me is that it takes me longer to learn to trust people than you.'

#

It was a perfectly ordinary day.

Harry woke up, owled Draco about plans for that night, took coffee with his breakfast, and then headed to work. After going through the Ministry toilets, Harry made his way through the atrium where they were putting up a new statue to replace the one Voldemort had put there when he controlled the higher-ups in the Ministry.

'Took them long enough,' Harry muttered under his breath.

Grant it, they had a lot of cleaning up to do after the war and random crude artwork were the least of their problems, but they had magic. Anyone could have destroyed it by then but, like Harry, it wasn't any of their place to do so. Instead everyone, like Harry, tried to ignore it while they made their way to their offices each day.

There was a boring morning filled with paperwork, an annoying interview with Agatha while they prepared her court case, and then he decided to leave the Ministry for lunch. It was the only way for him to see a stitch of sunlight during the day.

He looked both ways out on the street before he left the curb and mid-way through the street heard a honk from a car that swung around a curve too fast. Trying to run, Harry slipped on a patch of ice. 

Harry braced himself for the inevitable hard ground. Expecting to be hit by the car about the same moment.

Instead, he felt into soft snow.

Opening his eyes, he saw trees above him. Harry sat up and looked around. He was on the side of the walkway, far away from the street. Then he noticed Malfoy's bright hair walking away from Harry. 

'Draco!' Harry called out to him, but he didn't turn. No one seemed to notice Harry sitting there or seemed to realise he'd just appeared there from the middle of the street moment before. Swallowing, Harry stood up.

This was supposed to have been over. They weren't fighting anymore that Harry was aware of. He would have written the car off as a coincidence had Draco not been there to save him, but with Draco there—something must have pulled him there. He had no reason to be on this Muggle street at this time of day out of the blue.

#

After work, Harry had a couple of hours before he was to meet up with Draco, so he went through the books he'd checked out before for information about soulmate bonds. He'd avoiding even looking at those books before because he hadn't been ready to admit that was what had been behind the strange occurrences surrounding him and Draco.

 _The Soulmate's Guide_ seemed like the proper place to start. Harry scanned the table of contents until he found a section on near death experiences.

**The Volatile Mate**

_Although rare, some mates clash instead of mesh when they first met. They are repelled by each other even as they are drawn to each other. There are many reasons why they might occur, but they tend to revolve around cultural differences. Having a soulmate is a blessing along with a curse in that together they have bond everyone admires and powers beyond their peers, but apart they lead lives of self-destruction. And if they don't then fate intervenes._

**Near Death Experiences as Soul Bond's Intervention**

_The most common way fate attacks soulmates who clash is by random near death experiences. Fate draws the soulmates together and puts one in immediate danger, causing the other to either save their mate's life—which is a classic bonding technique as near death experience tends to bond people together at the reminder that life is short and not worth grudges—or to watch their mate die._

_Soulmates who chose to watch their mate die usually fall into a depressive state and take their lives before fate helps them join their soulmate in death, but a few cases of shown the opposite.  
_   
**What to do if your soul mate is volatile:**   
_  
1\. Most volatile relationships happen because of a lack of empathy. Try to see things from your mate's point of view in your arguments._

_2\. Realise that your opinion is just that: an opinion. Your mate's opinion is just a valid as yours._

_3\. If you know something about your culture is seen as disrespectful to their culture, don't dismiss them but try to avoid doing it around them._

_4\. As with the above, if you are in the reverse situation, try not to look down on your mate's culture just because it is different from your own. They are most likely just being themselves and mean no disrespect to you. Don't everything they do, especially when it has nothing to do with you, as a personal disrespect to you._

_5\. Find common ground. You are soul mates for a reason, even if you can't see why right now. Learn about each other and see how you complement each other. Opposites in abilities are often soulmates because they can make up for the other's weaknesses.  
_

Harry scanned through the next few sections. What to do if your mate refuses to work with you, if you work things out but family is trying to pull you apart, if your bond is sexual but you or your mate are not. Finally, Harry found the part he was looking for.

**What to do if you are working together but are still having fate interventions:**   
_  
If fate is intervening, then there is still someone pushing away in your bond. Sometimes there are clues in the interventions themselves._

_Who is the one having the near death experiences?_

_Often the person meant to save their soulmate is the one pushing their soulmate away. They might be pretending to work on the relationship while keeping their soulmate at a distance or they are plotting a way out of the bond._

_How dangerous are fate's interventions?_

_Many of fate's interventions scare but would never actually kill the person, but they can turn quite fatal. If without the mate's effort one would have died, then the situation is quite serious. The mate is pulling away if not completely absence even if still physically there. If one would have only slightly hurt themselves, then the mate is more likely confused or being pulled away but still fighting to stay._

_Like with most of the previous advice, the only thing to do is talk and figure out what is causing the disconnect.  
_

Closing the book, Harry thought about how their situations had reversed. Harry had been actively pushing Draco away for years, and he was the one who'd kept getting hurt. Harry had always been the one to save him. Today was the first time that Draco had been in that position.

Draco had also known for years and never pushed Harry away before. At least not that Harry knew. Harry did get himself into dangerous situations, but it was rare for Draco to be near him when they happened except, of course, during the war. They were both equally in danger then, but at the time everyone was.

Instinctively Harry knew it was because of something he'd said. It was Harry's own uncertainty and then sudden just acceptance of ti that caused Draco to push Harry away.

After dinner, Harry made his way to Malfoy Manor. Draco, or more likely a house elf, had set out a plate of Christmas biscuits and tea. Harry let Draco return to his chair, but he didn't sit down himself. He knelt in front of Draco and kissed him.

Draco kissed him for a moment but then pushed him away. 'You promised.'

'Draco, I almost died today.'

Closing his eyes, Draco nodded and kissed Harry back when he leaned in again. 

It was just like the book had described. Draco was physically present but not there, hiding somewhere deep in himself.

Pulling back, Harry pressed their foreheads together. He watched Draco's face, but Draco kept his eyes closed. 'I want this, Draco. I want you. I'm sorry for making you doubt whether or not you still did.' 

Draco didn't say anything.

'I'm assuming you did at one time because you've never had to save me before.'

'Yes, I have,' Draco said. 'Just not quite as often as you've had to save me.'

'Before today?'

'Here, when they brought you here.' Draco opened his eyes. 'It just wasn't as obvious as pulling someone out of fire.'

Harry kissed him again, this time with more force, and it finally felt as though Draco were there even if for only a moment before he pushed Harry back again.

'Why _were_ you there?' Harry asked. 'After you lost your wand, why did you stay? You should have left. I told you to leave.'

'I couldn't leave you there, you idiot,' Draco said, but his words had no bite to them. 'You would have died. Haven't you figured that out yet—oh, never mind, you had. You were just trying to deny it to yourself again.'

'I _am_ an idiot.' Harry could feel Draco turning cold again and wrapped his arm around him before he could push Harry further away. 'And I'm sorry,' Harry said and then kissed Draco's neck and just behind his ear. 'I'm sorry, and I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.'

Draco, ever so slightly, relaxed into Harry's embrace. 

'You really shouldn't make promises like that to a Slytherin,' Draco said.

'I think it's about time I learn to trust a few of them actually.'


	8. Chapter 8

At home that night, Harry decided he house needed some slight change in the decor. Not everything had to be gold and red and he never liked the fake white of the tree to begin with. He changed the tree to the green a real pine tree would have and looked around for other things to change that wouldn't stand out too much.

He made some of the red bulbs on his tree white and then green before he turned one to silver. Rolling his eyes at himself he turned some of his gold candles white, but still it the room was mostly red and gold. 

It was silly to associate a colour with one person so strongly, but Harry couldn't look at the one spot of silver in the room without thinking about Draco. And then about Draco's eyes. He had always had an unhealthy preoccupation with him.

Both Harry and Draco had to work until Christmas day.

It didn't feel like an odd coincidence when they scheduled matched like that to Harry anymore but more of an assumed result.

Tired he took the _The Soulmate's Guide_ to bed with him so he could read more of the friendlier bits. There were good things about having a soulmate, after all, and Harry felt it was high time they got to experience a few of them.

#

Draco still felt numb.

No matter how much he tried to open himself up to feeling again, it didn't work. He knew that if he didn't there would be negative consequences for Harry.

For years, Draco daydreamed about Harry saying and doing the things he was finally doing. Opening up to him, trying to have a relationship with him—any relationship, even a friendship—and being a teenage boy, kissing him. Also being a teenage boy, doing a lot more than kissing him. 

But everything was different in his dreams. 

A kiss took away all the previous pain in his dreams. Harry wanting to spend time with him satisfied Draco in his dreams. Saving Harry, just once, made Draco finally equal to Harry in his dreams.

The reality was quite different.

So that night after Harry went home, thinking that he'd gotten through to Draco and that everything would alright, Draco pulled out a bit of parchment and wrote a letter he swore to himself he'd never write.

Draco had never been very good at asking for help, and it took him a long time to learn to trust someone.

If someone was to ask Draco the first time he'd thought of ending his own life, he would have had a hard time pinpointing the moment. The first time he said anything of the sort in front of Pansy was on the train to Hogwarts their Sixth Year. The first time in front of his mother wasn't until near the end of the war after he'd lost his wand to Potter. The first time in front of anyone was far earlier, and the person wasn't a friend.

Third year, Herbology, and Longbottom. They'd been forced to partner with each other by Madam Sprout, and Draco learned that even people who hate you get all concerned when you mentioned offing yourself with dangerous plants. He told Longbottom it was a joke, but forever after that Longbottom's already wide eyes widened ever so slightly for a moment every time they met Draco's.

It was if the words had scarred Longbottom and just hearing Draco's voice brought back the memory every time. Perhaps it did, just like seeing Longbottom's expression look so much like it had at that moment always brought Draco back there as well.

Longbottom's reaction also taught Draco that he should never let those type of thoughts out in front of people. They were dangerous. 

Until he got to the point that he didn't care anymore and slipped in front of Pansy and Blaise, and then in front of his mother once Draco was rather certain Fate would be finishing him off in short order if Potter continued on as he was, hating even the sight of Draco and wishing him out of existence.

Draco couldn't sleep that night, which was the usual state of things really, thinking about how he'd answer all the questions he was sure the Mind Healer would ask him. Draco had read all the books; he knew them. 

Why did he feel he needed help?

For a long time, it would have been because he wanted to die and realised that wasn't the healthiest of thoughts to have.

He'd probably say he was having problems connecting with his soulmate just to see the look on his face.

What did he feel would make his problem better?

Well, dying obviously. 

That was Draco's problem because his death meant Potter's death and that kept him alive from the moment he realised it. That and his mother. There was a time his father was on that list as well, but Draco couldn't remember if he stopped caring about what his father felt before or after he realised his and Harry's connection.

There were days, where Draco could convince himself that his mother would be just fine without him. Especially after the war and he'd see just how strong of a person she was. It would be easier on her then as he was an adult than it would have been when he was still a young child.

He couldn't convince himself the same thing for Harry.

And, fuck, he was thinking of him as Harry again.

When did he first start thinking about ending his life? 

Always. 

There wasn't a moment of before and after. He didn't realise that not everyone wanted to die and was fighting against that urge until he went to Hogwarts and was surrounded by all the smiling faces.

Even in his daydreams, the conversations all ended badly. The Healer wouldn't want to work with him because of his past or would gather all Draco's secrets to use them against him somehow. Or just to tell all the papers about them. The embarrassment of his secrets alone would be enough.

In the morning, an owl was at his window saying the healer had been waiting for his owl and could see him in a few days. 

Until then, working eighteen hour days would have to be his salvation.

#

Draco was used to dreaming about Harry. 

This wasn't even the first Christmas themed one. Harry was laying in Draco's bed wrapped in Christmas lights, and even though it clearly was a dream the way his life had been going recently Draco wasn't positive of that at first. Magic could explain how they were lit without being plugged in. It also explained how they didn't get in the way of their kissing. The lights weren't hot against their skin. Magic couldn't often explain everything.

But it was a dream, and Draco remembered what caused the dream after he woke up. Pansy had sent him a Christmas card with a man wrapped in Christmas lights on the cover. His face wasn't on the card, but Draco's dreams provided him with one. They often did that.

It was snowing outside, which was normal. Draco's thoughts were on Harry, which was normal. And Draco was walking to work after Apparating near St Mungo's like normal. But Draco's life, mostly because of Harry, was never normal, so he really should have seen it coming.

At the same moment, Draco stepped into the front lobby of St Mungo's, Harry was being floated in by an Auror panicked and covered in blood.

Draco grabbed Harry right away and rushed him to his department. It didn't matter than Draco didn't work in the emergency area because he knew, instinctively, that he'd be the only person who could save him. 

Once they were in a stocked room alone, Draco got to work stripping Harry and looking for the damage.

If the Auror that brought Harry in had been Weasley, Draco would have had as long as it took for someone to need the room they were using. That would be an hour or so depending on how busy they were. But it hadn't been Weasley, so there was no telling how long the Auror would take before she began worrying about his progress and mentioned Draco's name to the wrong person. The wrong person could be anyone.

Draco might have been a Healer, but he was still a Malfoy. He wasn't allowed patients and was treated mostly like an errand boy. 

An errand boy that was a better Healer than the ones he worked for and who had to correct their mistakes for them to keep them from killing people. Draco knew that they had him train under the worst Healers at the hospital on purpose. The ones close to getting fired, ones who'd probably should have been fired years before he'd arrived there.

He'd be fired first, though.

It made him bitter, but he tried to look on the positive side of it. He became a Healer partly because he was good at it but mostly because he wanted to save people's lives. And he was. He was saving them from a pair of incompetent Healers.

But it also meant Draco was under no circumstances allowed to be doing what he was then. 

Harry was out cold when Draco had brought him into the room. Which was good, because Draco needed him to be quiet. But he began to wake up as Draco worked to make the blood stop leaving Harry's body at such a rapid speed.

'Draco?' Harry whispered and then groaned.

'Shh,' Draco said. 'Try to be quiet.' Draco glanced at the door and then sent a quick spell to clean up the blood that was trailing to where they stood. He didn't need someone wondering why there was a trail of blood leading to a dark room.

Then he sent another spell to gather the potions he needed Harry to drink out of the supply cupboard at the back of the room. They floated above their heads as Draco sealed the last few tears across Harry's chest.

Draco helped Harry to sit up. 'You need to drink these.'

Harry choked each one down slowly as Draco kept his eye on the door.

'Why is it so dark in here?'

Sighing, Draco said, 'Because I'm not allowed to do this.' He gestured to Harry.

'But you're a Healer.'

'But I'm a Death Eater.'

'I don't want you to get you into trouble.' Harry tried to stand up. 'Am I okay now?'

Draco pushed him back onto the bed, and Harry grabbed his hand. 'You still need to rest, but you should be fine now. It took me a week to heal when you hit me with that spell, and I had more immediate attention.'

'I didn't know anyone else knew it.'

'Neither did I.' But bad things had a way of spreading even when everyone tried to keep them secret. Someone must have written it down when Harry hit Draco with it. Someone must have gossiped about it and passed it around. It was not good news on multiple fronts. The main one being that Draco was the only one alive that knew the counter-spell.

Then again, it could have been a freak accident. Fate had a way of making those things happen.

'Are they alive?' Draco didn't' have to explain he meant the people who'd found out about Snape's curse.

Harry shook his head. 'I don't know.' Then he began to rub his thumb across the back of Draco's hand, and Draco pulled away. He looked up at Draco confused. 'I thought—'

'I'm sorry, this is all my fault. I tried . . . I tried, but I just can't.'

'You don't trust me.'

'I don't believe you really want this.'

#

Draco hadn't made any plans with Harry, and Harry was still healing, so the last thing expected to see when he walked out of the Floo was Harry sitting his in the living room with a couple of glasses of wine waiting for Draco.

He hadn't told anyone about his appointment with the Mind Healer. He quickly shoved the potion the Healer gave to him in his pocket.

'You should be resting,' Draco said, even though his mind was screaming: what are you doing here? 

The appointment had been emotionally draining, and he wasn't ready to confront his issues with Harry yet.

'I am.' Harry gestured to the wine, and Draco hesitated not sure if he was supposed to drink while taking the potion but decided that one glass of wine would be fine and picked it up. 

He sat down next to Harry on the couch, glad that Harry didn't seem to be curious about where he was. 

'Your mother let me in,' Harry explained and then looked at his hands while he stumbled over what he wanted to say. 'I've been doing a lot of thinking about—well, like you said what I feel and what I want. I've had a bit of free time to let my mind wander.' He laughed, but Draco didn't, and then cleared his throat to continue.

'I took an instant dislike to you. I told myself it was because you reminded me of my cousin, but you are nothing like my cousin. He is loud and physically abusive to pretty much everyone he met. You were bragging about getting something from your father and Dudley never did that. 

'See for Dudley getting whatever he wanted whenever he wanted was a given for him his entire life. He didn't brag about bullying his father into getting things for him because he never thought it that way. It was just "my dad will get it for me" because he would. And since most everyone around us had parents who got their kids things they needed or wanted, the idea of bullying their parents into would have made no sense.

'But that was what you'd said, and at the time, I thought it was just like Dudley because even though Dudley never thought of himself as a bully that was what he was and how he acted towards his parents. 

'And even though I later met your parents and knew there was no way you could bully your father into anything—and you certainly didn't get that broom you were trying to brag to me be about—it never occurred to me how vastly different from Dudley you were; that you had to be different to want to impress me to begin with.'

Harry was still looking at his hands, and Draco didn't know what to say. He'd never met Harry's Muggle cousin, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't like to be compared to him—it was just better that he didn't say anything at all. 

'After the war,' Harry continued, 'I forgave him. I saw that, in an entirely different way, he actually was like you, and like me and like everyone else: a product of how we were raised. I reached out to him, and we're as friendly as is possible for us. We don't understand each other, but we don't hate each other. I think he is still a little afraid of me, because I am more powerful than him, and his parents taught him to fear magic above everything. I'll probably always be a little afraid of him, too, despite that I know I'm stronger than him.

'I couldn't do that with you for some reason. I could forgive you in my head but I couldn't to your face. I'll always be a little afraid of you, too. Our first year at Hogwarts, hell, ever since I met you, I worried about what you'd say, what you thought about me. That I'd make a fool of myself on a broom in front of you during our flying lessons or just make a fool of myself around you in general. 

'My point being, that I've been wrong about a lot of things; and I've always cared a little too much about what you thought of me because I was afraid. I was afraid of what that meant, and what you'd do if you ever found out how much I did care.'

Draco stopped him by pulling him into a kiss.

'I went to see the Mind Healer today.'


	9. Chapter 9

The potions the Healer gave Draco made him sleep the entire time he wasn't at work for the next couple of days. On the third day, he woke up to his alarm and turned it off at the first ring. He couldn't remember if he had ever done that before. He felt rested, instead of restless, and he couldn't remember if he'd ever felt that before, either.

Somewhere in the last couple days in his sleepwalking state, he'd agreed, by owl, to accompany Harry to the Weasley's for a party on Christmas Eve. Which just happened to be today. Draco would not have agreed had he been in his right mind or his left mind for that matter.

But he said he would, so after he arrived home from work he dressed and waited for Harry in his sitting room.

The Healer wanted to meet with Draco once a week until Draco adjusted to the potion, and then they'd met for once a month. Draco couldn't imagine what they'd have to talk about. He didn't feel any different. More rested and he admitted to himself that sleep had been desperately needed.

When Harry came through Draco's Floo, he was dressed in jeans and one of the sweaters the Weasley's all had. Draco instantly felt overdressed as he was sure the rest of the family would be dressed much like Harry if not in the same sweater.

Draco stepped back, ready to excuse himself when Harry grabbed his arm and pulled him into a kiss.

'You look good.' Harry said, blushing. The stared at each other for a moment, not sure where to go next. 'How would you like to enter? Floo or front door?'

Draco hadn't considered it before, but he did not like the idea of just suddenly appearing in the Weasley's home without a preamble or giving them a chance to invite him in—even if by extension from Harry—of their own accord. 

'Front door.' 

'Alright, Side-a-long?'

Since Harry was already holding on to Draco, he simply nodded and then a moment later they popped up in front of the Weasley's house.

It looks as though the only thing that kept it upright was magic. Draco had never seen such a mismatch of random corners jutting out. There were probably additions they added when each child had come along.

Draco grabbed Harry's hand as they walked up the front path.

Before Harry even knocked on the door, it swung wide opened and Weasley—well, Ron for simplicity's sake—stood there, eyes wide in horror. 

'My parents have done it again!'

'What?' Harry said in confusion, but then it must have come to him because a grin spread across his face. 'What are they dressed as?'

'Some Muggle mythological creatures!'

'What?' Harry asked again.

'You have to help me stop them.' Ron turned around and went back into the house, leading Harry and Draco to the living room. Ron gestured to two cats sitting by the fireplace dressed in funny little outfits.

'Ron, Santa Clause is not mythological _creature_ , and I'm not sure I'd consider elves _creatures_ either. They are mythological _people_.' 

'Then why did they turn into their animagus forms for the costumes?' Ron pouted.

'I don't know, Ron,' Harry said. 'Maybe they just like being cats.'

'Um,' Draco said. 'You'd think they'd have figured Pettigrew out a bit sooner, wouldn't you?'

Harry laughed as Ron seemed to think about the implications when Ginevra came in the room floating three glasses of wine, two beers with, presumably, her boyfriend behind her. Ron's contemplative look turned into a glare at the man. Most certainly her boyfriend, then. 

Draco snorted.

'Mum, dad, come on now,' Ginevra said, 'you've tortured Ron enough, and you're neglecting your guests.' Then turning to Harry and Draco, she said, 'Come on, you lot, everyone's in the back.'

She lead them around the fireplace to a room that was twice the size of the living room they'd just left. The room was already full of people talking, drinking and laughing.

'Oh, that's right,' Ron said. 'You hadn't seen this one yet. They figured with the family expanding and all it was time the house did again. I think just like adding rooms, personally.' One of the beers that had been floating around with them nudged at Ron's hand, he took it and noticed Ginevra's boyfriend standing on the other side of it again. 'Oh, and this is _Trent_ ,' Ron said in the most unenthusiastic tone Draco had ever heard from him.

Merlin, and Draco thought he had mood swings. He had to bite his lip to keep himself from smiling too broadly at the thought. 

Hermione and Luna were already there, and Harry lead Draco toward them when Draco noticed another person with platinum blonde hair—not Fleur, although he'd noticed her as well, his mother. 

'Mum?'

She turned and smiled up at Draco from the chair she was sitting in. 'Oh, Draco, I would have had you come with me, but I knew Harry would be along to collect you.' At Draco's confused looked she added, 'Don't you remember talking about it—I guess you were quite tired.' She brushed the topic aside. 'I don't believe you've had the chance to meet my sister, Andromeda.' 

Andromeda sat to his mother's left and seeing her caused Draco to freeze. No, he hadn't had the chance to met her, but there was no mistaking her for one of his mother's sisters.

'You have to forgive him, Dromeda,' his mum said, 'he hasn't had the greatest experiences with members of our family.'

Andromeda laughed. 'That's probably an understatement.' Then to Draco, she said, 'Neither have I.'

Thankfully, Mr and Mrs Weasley, still cats, ran into the room causing almost everyone to laugh and broke the tension. 

Draco laughed, too.

Especially a moment later, when the real Mr and Mrs Weasley entered the room and had never been the cats at all. The look on Ron's face was priceless.

Somewhere in the middle of all the laughter, Draco realised that the potion was working quite well, and he would have something to talk about during his next visit.

#

'You got me a gift?' Draco asked as Harry handed him the box. They were standing next to Draco's Floo after leaving the Weasley's Christmas party. Draco stood with his back to the mantle and Harry held on to it leaning toward Draco.

Draco hadn't thought about getting Harry anything for Christmas, and he bit his lip to keep himself from saying that. Then he opened the package.

'A silver Snitch?'

'I figured you could never have too many.' 

Draco kissed him, letting it linger and said, 'Thank you.'

'You didn't get me anything, did you?' 

Harry was smiling, so Draco nodded. 'I've been busy, trying not die and all.'

Harry brought his hand toward Draco's face, but the movement hit a wooden nutcracker that was on the mantle and then he fumbled trying to catch it.

Draco laughed as he pulled out his wand and sent the Nutcracker back to its resting place. Pulling Harry back to him, Draco whispered, 'How about we go upstairs, and I let you unwrap me instead.'

'Really?' Harry's eyes went wide. 'I thought—'

'Don't you want to?'

'Yes! Of course, yes!'

'Then don't give me reasons to doubt myself.'

Harry smiled and nodded and pulled Draco into his arms and started kissing Draco's neck.

Oh, Draco shouldn't have waited so long for this.

#

In the morning, Draco woke up Harry staring down at him with a smile on his face.

'What?' Draco asked.

'I have something else for you.' Harry sat up and pulled out a bottle of champagne and poured them both a glass. After he had handed Draco a glass, he pulled out a letter. 

Hesitant, Draco took it from Harry and slowly opened it. At first, Draco wasn't sure what he was looking at. It came from St Mungo's. It was a promotion of sorts. He was no longer under the supervision of the incompetent Healers. 

Draco could have his own patients.

'How?' Draco asked.

Harry looked away and blushed then. 'Well, I am Harry Potter.'

'Still—how did you know . . .' Then Draco remembered that he knew Draco couldn't work without supervision because of the day he'd gone there hurt. He probably never knew about Draco's position under the worst Healers at the hospital. 'Where to go,' Draco finished lamely.

'I just asked around. You're a great Healer, Draco, and I'd prefer it if you didn't have to hide me when you saved my life next time.'

Draco smirked and then kissed Harry.

#

It was snowing as they walked down the frozen path. Since Draco didn't get Harry anything for Christmas, he decided to share experiences with him instead. When he was a child, Draco's parents used to walk with him on this path on special occasions. It was too close to the Muggle town for them to use it regularly.

The path was even more in a Muggle area now, as the city closest to the Manor had grown over the last ten years.

Harry held Draco hand as Draco talked about his childhood and some of his family's traditions. 

There were still things they didn't talk about. Harry didn't ask about his therapy, but since neither one of them had almost died that day, Draco supposed it was going well enough. And even with the small changes Draco had noticed over the last couple days, he could still see where he was far from being better.

The potion helped him sleep, but Draco still needed Harry's presence to smile. He could still laugh and smile, but he was still quick to losing his temper when the smallest things didn't go his way. Like that morning at breakfast when he'd spilt his coffee. Harry cleaned it up and kissed Draco's hand where Harry thought he might have burnt it. It fine. It wasn't that big of a deal, but riled Draco up and kept him on edge for near an hour. 

'Everything alright?' Harry asked, squeezing Draco's hand and bringing him back to the moment.

No, it wasn't. 'It's fine,' Draco said and forced a smile. But it would be. 

It will be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, the ending is so short and choppy. As Christmas approached, I was tired and only managed a drabble each night right before bed.
> 
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> x _Jo_


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